


Dragons of Dracaren

by RandomSlasher (Randomslasher), Thuri



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders - Freeform, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders - Freeform, Dragonriders, Logic | Logan Sanders - Freeform, Logince - Freeform, M/M, Morality | Patton Sanders - Freeform, Possible Moxiety, Possible Thomas/Virgil, ace Patton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-02 10:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 24,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12724827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randomslasher/pseuds/RandomSlasher, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thuri/pseuds/Thuri
Summary: A SandersSides DragonRider AU





	1. Quick Summary

**Author's Note:**

> This is an archive of the [Dragons of Dracaren](https://dragons-of-dracaren.tumblr.com/) tumblr, an ongoing alternate universe.

(Or the absolute bare minimum you need to know to jump into [Chapter One](https://dragons-of-dracaren.tumblr.com/post/167886360585/chapter-1))

Dragons of Dracaren is a fantasy AU where Roman, Logan, Virgil, Patton have been chosen to become dragon riders. Dragon riders are an elite guard who are chosen by sentient drakes upon their hatching and become bonded with them. They share a psychic and empathic connection with the drakes. Once selected, they are responsible for raising them, and they do so under the supervision and tutelage of the other riders in a stronghold in the mountains above the capital city. 

The four have been there for two years at the time the story begins. 

Roman is a minor prince and as the youngest tournament champion in a century, has been placed in charge of training the others to fight. His dragon is a large red and black female named Aisling.

Virgil is a former kitchen boy who snuck to a hatching just to watch and was chosen by his drake Caru, a small, black enby. 

Patton is the son of the king but not the heir to the throne. He was chosen by an enthusiastic blue and white drake named Teren. He and Teren are special in that they share some healing ability. 

Logan, our protagonist, is a minor noble whose legs were weakened by a childhood bout with polio. He feels unworthy of being a rider due to his life long desire to be a scholar--not a warrior--and worries he will screw things up. But once a drake has made her decision, it is ironclad. Kavi will hear no protests; she loves her nerdy boy. 

Thomas is the heir to the kingdom. Heirs are chosen by a special dragon known as a Sovereign. Sovereign dragons are responsible for choosing heirs and their decision is absolute. Thomas and Patton were raised as brothers after Thomas was chosen by Rhiannon. Though they are the same age exactly, Patton has always been extremely protective of Thomas, and has taken him under his proverbial wing since day one.  

Our story begins one night after the four have been training with their dragons for approximately two years. The drakes are about two-thirds of the way to adult size and are large enough to carry riders–but not for too long, and not yet very gracefully.


	2. World

[ ](https://dragons-of-dracaren.tumblr.com/image/165708831295)

 

**Dracaren**

  * Kethra is a world set in a fantasy medieval/renaissance period in which dragons–and other mythical creatures–exist and our story takes place.  
  

  * The kingdom of Dracaren is a mountainous but green country, with distinct seasons and a snowy winter, roughly the size of Scotland. It is bordered to the East and West by ocean, to the South by the kingdom of Loranta, and to the North by the Northern Wilds, high mountains where the snow never melts.  
  

  * While there are many small villages and towns in Dracaren, there are only seven major towns/cities or so, and four of these are ports.  
  

  * The capital city, Rhysan, is at the head of three rivers and nestled up against the mountain range that runs through the north of the kingdom.  
  

  * The Royal Den, home to the largest concentration of dragons in the kingdom, is above the capital city in those mountains, as the dragons find it easier to take off by jumping from a height–and they can get to places that people can’t easily walk to.  
  

  * Dracaren is a monarchy, authority ultimately derives from the crown. But each new reigning monarch is chosen not by lineage, but by a Sovereign dragon hatchling.  
  

  * The Sovereign dragon is always female, and only lays the egg of her successor. She lays the egg the day the next monarch is born, and it hatches after about 5-6 years, a longer incubation than any other dragon. Sovereign dragons are always opalescent and the legend goes that it was a Sovereign who first imprinted on a human.  
  

  * When the egg, which starts out white, gains opalescent swirls it is close to hatching. Children born on the day it was laid are brought into the hatching chamber to touch the egg. When the right one does, it will hatch.  
  

  * Often the next monarch comes from the family of the current monarch, but not always. Sometimes the child is not even found within the capital or surrounding villages, and the egg must be taken under heavy guard on a quest to find her rider.  
  

  * While this has rarely been the case, the most recent heir, Thomas, was an orphaned peasant boy and it took months of travel before he was finally found. He was adopted immediately into the king’s family and has been raised by them since.  
  

  * Theodore II is a good king, and the kingdom has been at peace since early in his reign. Thomas’s generation has yet to see all-out war, but Theodore’s remembers it well.  
  

  * Dragons are an integral part of warfare, acting as couriers, inserting spies over enemy lines, and of course as aerial combat units.  
  

  * Dracaren is not the only kingdom to have a dragon force, they’re scattered throughout this world.  
  

  * While this is a medieval to renaissancian setting–knights, swords, armor, etc–there is some magic in the world. The dragons are telepathic, empathic, and likely, since they can fly when they shouldn’t physically be able to, telekinetic. Smaller magics create lights that shine without flame, medicines more effective than just herbs, and other small comforts.  
  

  * As far as religion in this world, there are many Gods, a Merciful Mother, Holy Father, and a pantheon that gives a patron God to every craft and need. They are all honored together at the Solstice and Equinox days, and each God has their own feast day as well, scattered throughout the year. Each village may have its own patron or may worship the Mother and Father. Every temple is dedicated to the whole pantheon as well as the patron of the area.



 


	3. FAQ

  * Who are you?
    * I am @[thuriweaver ](https://thuriweaver.tumblr.com)(main blog), @[writing-thuri](https://writing-thuri.tumblr.com) (writing blog), and @[sanders-sides-thuri](https://sanders-sides-thuri.tumblr.com) (Thomas Sanders blog). I contain multitudes. Or I have too many blogs, your choice!
  * What are the main pairings in this universe?
    * Logince and either Moxiety or Thomas/Virgil depending on how the story goes.
  * Is Thomas a character?
    * Yes.
  * Will this be NSFW?
    * There may be parts that are, but they will be clearly tagged
  * What is going on here?
    * This is my SanderSides DragonRider AU. I could have written the story, but it was turning into an epic, novel-length idea, and I wanted to play in the world more quickly than that would let me!
  * How do I figure out what’s going on?
    * Click on the [reference](https://dragons-of-dracaren.tumblr.com/reference) tab to find a complete explanation of Who, What, When, and Where, if not so much why and how. You’ll find character descriptions, explanations of the world, and basic plotline information all linked there. It’ll be updated as new things are posted.


  * Is it okay to write fanfic/draw fanart set in this universe?
    * OMG, please? I would be  _incredibly_  honored and appreciative! All I ask is that you tag me–and maybe send me an ask to make sure I don’t miss the tag!–and link back to the blog! 
  * Can I make submissions?
    * Absolutely! I take all submissions @[dreamers-of-dracaren](https://dreamers-of-dracaren.tumblr.com). I have a full-time job, so they might not appear immediately, but I’d love to see them! 
  * Do you take prompts?
    * Again, absolutely! I always love getting any prompt anyone wants to send! I just can’t promise for certain that each one will filled, as it might not both fit in with the rest of the story–in which case I may still fill it at @writing-thuri as an AU of the AU–or that my fickle muses will latch onto it. But I will do my best!


  * I have more questions that aren’t answered here or in the reference info.
    * Feel free to message me! I will do my best to answer them.




	4. Dragon Lore

  * There are many different breeds, but the riding dragons are all of generally the same type  

  * There are smaller wild breeds ranging in size from about that of horses to foxes, that can be aggressive, shy, etc. The wild breeds are all less intelligent (equivalent of humans vs great apes/chimps)  

  * There is also a domesticated small breed, drachlings, that are basically cats, though somewhat more intelligent. They’re kept as pets, especially among the nobility. Among the nobility specifically, they’re bred for bright colors and unique displays; the more colorful and unique, the higher the mark of status in owning one. Common drachlings are more bland in appearance but generally more intelligent as they have higher genetic diversity. 



**Drakes**

  * Riding dragons, or drakes, are the most intelligent, easily human level, and can speak to their riders.  

  * There are between 100-200 drakes in Dracaren, around 50 of them at the Royal Den at any one time. Others are stationed around the kingdom, patrolling borders, keeping the peace, and engaging in border skirmishes with raiders when needed.  
  
**Bonds  
**
  * Drakes developed in intelligence roughly at the same speed as humans, but have strong bonding instincts.  

    *  Wild dragon species will bond with another member of their drive or family group immediately after hatching, usually an older sibling or younger member of the previous generation. This gives the parents help in raising them, provides support for the hatchling and creates greater pack bonds throughout the group. This bond usually fades as the dragon ages.  

  * Drakes, however, form that initial bond with a human (unless no appropriate rider can be found) and it is lifelong. Occasionally a hatchling will imprint on an older drake, but it’s very rare. Drakes may later form additional bonds with their own chosen draconic mates, or with their rider’s mates, but the first bond is special.  

  * Both telepathic and empathic, they can speak to anyone but usually only share their emotions with their riders.  

    * Wild dragons and the drachlings are only empathic. They’re not intelligent enough to speak in clear language, it’s more feelings and sometimes images.  

  * Riders who lose their drakes sometimes bond with drakes who’ve lost their riders and vice versa. Others remain as trainers, others leave the life completely. Riderless drakes often stay as trainers, perform basic guard duties. The loss is a significant trauma for either side, however, and some never fully recover.  

  * Because of the toll that losing one half of the pair takes on the other, it’s rare for opposing forces to use lethal force against enemy riders/drakes. They more often attempt capture and ransom, if for no other reason that they wish their own drakes to be treated the same.  
  
**Biology**
  * Drakes have roughly the same lifespan as their riders, 60-80 years or so. They reach full maturity at about four to five, but full growth at about three.  

  * They require large amounts of food during their first year of life, as they experience rapid growth. The support flocks/herds for a Den raising a clutch are massive, but the vassals who provide them are well compensated in royal favors/tax breaks/thanks.  

  * Like birds of prey, females are larger than males on average. Adult drakes range from 20-35 feet long, nose to tail, with most females in the 25-30 foot range and most males in the 20-25 foot range.  

  * Drake colors and markings are varied, but there are some constraints. Like certain birds, their base skin colors are shades of black, red, blue, orange, and white, or a combination thereof. But they do have scales covering their wing joints, eye ridges, feet, and other sensitive areas. These can be gloriously iridescent and bright, splashing stripes and patches of green, yellow, purple and rainbow shimmer across their hides.  

  * When full grown, they can breathe fire, thanks to special glands in their mouths that secrete separate combustible chemicals. When these chemicals are fired from the glands, they combine and ignite in midair, making the dragon’s breath a powerful weapon.   

    * In spite of this, it is considered a weapon of last resort, as a Drake usually only has enough chemical stored for a limited attack. After they have spent their fire, they must wait for their body to rebuild its chemical stores, something that can take anywhere from 2-3 days.  

  * When grown, Drakes eat the equivalent of about 1-2 full grown sheep per week.  
  
**Reproduction**
  * While drakes can and do mate for pleasure at any time, a female must go into heat to produce a viable egg. This seems in part to be determined by the population around her–if many drakes have recently been lost, more eggs will be fertile, and more females will go into active heat. The more stable a population, the fewer heats/fertile eggs.  

  * Drakes usually lay their eggs at about the same time as other females, and eggs that are in close contact with each other hatch almost simultaneously. As a result, the eggs from several different sets of parents make up each clutch.  

  * Eggs hatch approximately four months after being laid, six months after fertilization.  

  * A hatching is considered a very important event, and candidates for the eggs are brought in from all over the kingdom. Some apply, some are chosen by current riders–though more specifically by their drakes. And some just seem to appear on the hatching grounds on the right day, which has led to a few amusing misunderstandings as people who came as spectators are suddenly imprinted upon by a hatchling. But a drake’s choice is final.




	5. Characters: Logan

  * He is a very, very minor noble, who is serving in the palace. He is basically a clerk, copying tax records from outlying towns and trying to steal away free time to raid the palace library.  
  

  * Being relatively unimportant, he doesn’t attend court functions and never sees anyone too high up in ranking, but he’s learned all of the court etiquette backwards and forwards to keep from insulting some knight or baron from the outskirts of the kingdom, as he knows–from his own family–that the more insignificant the noble, the more touchy they are about rank.  
  

  * He’d be perfectly content to spend the rest of his life in the palace library, reading and studying and maybe writing a few books of his own. He actually wishes he could have gone to a monastery–he’s not really devoted to any of the Gods, but they have extensive libraries and are places to study–or a university. But he’s his father’s only son and so had to serve the crown in some capacity.  
  

  * He couldn’t do so as a knight, as a childhood illness left his legs too weak. He wears long metal and leather leg braces on both legs and uses crutches. His father is incredibly disappointed over this, having wanted his son to be a warrior like him.  
  

  * Logan, however, mostly considers it a blessing. He wasn’t particularly interested in being a knight–he’ll admit, if pressed, that combat and strategy are interesting enough, but he’d rather study them than participate–and it gave him an excuse to sit inside and read.  
  

  * He has since childhood mostly ignored his body, so is weaker than he likely could be. He considers his body and its needs mostly a distraction, and doesn’t think about them more than absolutely necessary.  
  

  * All of this makes him think everyone is INSANE for suggesting he could ride a dragon. While he was one of the children born the day the Sovereign egg was laid and had his chance touching it, that was before he fell ill and his legs became weak.  
  

  * He can’t believe it when the Seekers chose him as a candidate for the latest clutch. Right up until Kavi imprints on him, he’s trying to argue his way out of it. But as soon as she hatches and his eyes meet hers, he’s a goner.  
  

  * After that, his worry turns to not being worthy of her, of not being able to know enough, to train well enough, to  _be_  enough. But he has the others to help him, and he comes into his own eventually.




	6. Characters: Roman

  * Roman was born on the same day as Prince Thomas, and in fact was one of the first candidates to touch Rhiannon’s egg, though of course she didn’t respond to him.   
  

  * His father never quite got over the fact that Roman wasn’t picked and raised Roman telling him he should’ve been the next king.  
  

  * When Roman was younger he was very much impressed with his own importance. That’s eased up a bit as he’s realized his family is not as highly placed as he was taught to believe, and nothing could’ve swayed the Sovereign egg’s choice.  
  

  * He is secretly actually  _incredibly_  relieved he’ll never have to worry about actually ruling. He’s pretty sure he’d be horrible at it.  
  

  * He appears more touchy about his rank than he really is, but knows it’s a useful thing to throw around to keep himself from being bothered too much. If someone’s impressed with him, or thinks he’s a stuffed shirt, it’s easier to get by. Either one is an advantage in a fight, and politics is just as much a battle as any fought with swords.  
  

  * And Roman has no issues with fighting. He truly enjoys fencing, jousting, wrestling, archery, and any other martial art he’s tried. He’s good, too, but while he boasts about his prowess, it’s the result of incredibly hard work and dedication as much as natural talent.  
  

  * He also loves and enjoys the pomp and circumstance of court, the bright and flashy clothes, the endless ceremony, the speeches and ridiculous ways everyone shows off for each other. He’s incredibly excited when the Seekers choose him, because whether he imprints a dragon or not, he’ll get to see the king’s court–and perhaps make a match for himself. If not, he should at least be able to break a few hearts.  
  

  * He does imprint, though, and is the first of the group to do so. He takes to the training very naturally, and is endlessly frustrated with both Virgil and Logan. Virgil knows dirty fighting, the kind you learn when you’re bullied as a child, stubborn as hell, and driven to do what it takes to make it stop. It’s not at all the honorable methods Roman has learned as a knight, and he has real trouble understanding why Virgil’s not only willing to do it, but can’t see a problem with doing whatever it takes to win, either.  
  

  * As for Logan, the fact that he’s completely indifferent to his body is something Roman  _cannot_ comprehend. He’s always been very, very physical, and the idea that someone could disconnect their identity from their body that thoroughly is utterly foreign to him. He doesn’t expect Logan to somehow be magically cured if he just tries hard enough, but Roman’s known enough soldiers to know that some exercise and effort could probably help him.  
  

  * The two of them get into a fairly epic fight over this, and Patton and Virgil have to separate them and calm them both down. Roman lets Virgil deal with Logan after that–Virgil might fight dirty, but he at least understands the need  _to_  fight. And since he somehow gets through to Logan, Roman doesn’t push again.




	7. Characters: Virgil

  * Virgil is a kitchen boy, a bastard peasant who’s lucky to work in the palace and knows it. He worries about someone recognizing he’s getting a little too old for the work and throwing him out. He’s never seen anyone of higher rank than the head cook.  
  

  * His mother was a kitchen wench, and he has no idea who his father was. He grew up in the palace kitchens, put to work as soon as he could turn a spit. It wasn’t a horrible place to grow up, at least while his mother was alive, he was always warm enough, and usually had enough to eat. But no one ever let him forget he was a bastard, and he didn’t have any real friends except his mother.  
  

  * But she died a few years ago, and can’t protect him anymore. He’s no longer certain of his position, not realizing just how much she’d been shielding him from while she was alive. There’s always plenty of people willing to work in the castle kitchens, and he has no real connections with the others there. Being a bastard was considered bad luck on its own, and he’s always been shy and nervous around people.  
  

  * He is not picked by the Seekers, but rather sneaks out to watch the Hatching Day, as he has for as long as he can remember. He’s hiding beneath the stands when a baby dragon rejects everyone else and comes toddling over and picks  _him_ , of all people.  
  

  * He’s fairly sure he doesn’t deserve to be a dragon rider, but he can’t convince Caru of that, so he’s determined to do his best.  
  

  * But Virgil’s life has been a nervous, uncertain one, and he’s going to find dealing with the other extremely privileged members of the group somewhat difficult. He’s fairly sure he likes them, but they don’t seem to realize how easy their lives have been.  
  

  * He gets along really well with Logan at first, since neither of them feel like they belong, and ends up pushing Logan to pay more attention to his own physical needs, helping him train.




	8. Characters: Patton

  * Patton is the son of the current king and was also born on the same day as Thomas. As his father’s dragon laid her egg the day he was born, he was expected to be the one to imprint her. When he touched the egg as a chubby five-year-old and nothing happened, he patted it again, told her it was okay, and he hoped she found her rider soon.  
  

  * When Thomas was found, Patton immediately welcomed him into the family, ecstatic to have a brother. He took Thomas under his wing and taught him all about living in the palace, and spent a lot of time tricking the head cook out of treats for both of them.  
  

  * He jokes that he practically raised Thomas, and Thomas will call him “Dad” to tease him.  
  

  * He loves Thomas immensely and has devoted a lot of his energies into helping him grow into his role.  
  

  * Patton’s a little spoiled, having grown up as a prince, but he’s always been cheerful and kind enough that it doesn’t seem to have done him much harm. The queen is known for her charitable works, and Patton helps her with all of them–and any time he goes out into the city, he comes back with an empty purse, all his money given away to those in need.  
  

  * He’s also incredibly mischievous, and he and Thomas were a step away from trouble most of their childhoods, whether it was playing hide and seek after dark, playing pranks on their tutors, or just Patton making Thomas giggle through state dinners.  
  

  * He’s fairly surprised when the Seekers choose him, and even more so when he does imprint, especially after Rhiannon didn’t choose him. Once he has imprinted, and is with the other three, there’s a moment when Thomas comes to congratulate them.   
  

  * Logan has been lecturing them all on exactly how to act from the moment they were told the prince was coming. He’s been aiming this at Patton specifically, as Patton doesn’t seem to be following any of the rules of etiquette and is acting much too familiar with all of them, especially the royal guard. Logan has been very anxious that Patton is going to get in trouble for his insolence, dragon rider or no.   
  

  * None of the others know who Patton is–his full royal name is much longer (Theodore Morgan Patton Reginald) and he goes by Prince Morgan officially. Plus none of the others have been to the Royal Court before–Logan’s not interested, Virgil’s a kitchen boy, and Roman’s not been to the capital since he was about five.   
  

  * When Thomas does arrive, Instead of doing what Logan says, Patton goes right up to the prince. He grabs Thomas into a huge hug, lifting him right off his feet and squealing “Prince Thomas!” happily as he spins him around, then sets him back down. And then he plants a huge smacker of a kiss right on Thomas’s cheek.”Great to meet you!”  
  

  * Logan almost has a stroke, and he’s certain they’re all about to be beheaded immediately. Every noble he’s ever known has been INCREDIBLY touchy about rank, and Patton just broke all the rules. He and Roman rush forward and grab Patton by the arms, pulling him back in line while Roman bows and babbles apologies to the prince.   
  

  * Thomas folds his arms and stares at them sternly, and the two bodyguards at his side move forward, spears at the ready. “You would disrespect your prince?” he says, voice calm and dangerous, and the others are about to have an aneurysm before Thomas suddenly bursts out laughing and opens his arms, and Patton rushes into them again. The two guards, apparently familiar with this joke, smirk and set their spears at ease, watching the others’ astonishment with amusement as Thomas and Patton have their reunion.  
  

  * Patton is such a sweetheart that the others forgive him his prank pretty quickly, but none of them forget he’s both sharper and sneakier than he seems at first glance




	9. Characters: Thomas

  * Thomas is the Crown Prince, having imprinted Rhiannon, daughter of the current Sovereign Dragon, Reina, when he was six. He doesn’t remember much of his life before her, as he was an orphaned peasant boy living on the charity of the local temple.  
  

  * Since imprinting Rhiannon, he’s lived in the palace and been raised as a prince. Though he and Patton are–exactly–the same age, Patton acted as a big brother, showing him how everything worked and keeping him happy and cheerful when everything got too overwhelming.  
  

  * He’s a good guy, super sweet, and he’s going to be a  _good_  king, because he’s smart and cares a WHOLE LOT about his people.  
  

  * He’s tried really hard to learn everything he’ll need to know when Theodore II dies, and he has to take over. Rhiannon promises to help him–as a Sovereign dragon she has access to a racial memory the drakes don’t and can give him advice and guidance.  
  

  * A lot of his time is taken up in study and training, but he tries to take some for himself when he can, preferring the quiet and spending time with Rhiannon or Patton when he can.  
  

  * He’s also a goof, and he and Patton love to play practical jokes on people, though they do it less now that they’re nearly of age than they did when they were younger.  
  

  * Thomas is incredibly excited when Patton’s chosen by the Seekers, and almost beside himself when Patton imprints. They’ve been incredibly close, but he’s always wanted to share with Patton what it’s like to be dragon-bonded, and now he can.  
  

  * Because of how close he is to Patton, he spends as much time as he can with him, and gets to know the other three in Patton’s group fairly well. They all make a pact together to look after him. Thomas inspires loyalty without even realizing it, and they want to protect him and help him as best they can.  
  

  * Though none of them know it, this isn’t as accidental as it looks. All four of the others–Logan, Virgil, Roman, and Patton–were born on the same day as Thomas, and all touched Rhiannon’s egg.   
  

  * Patton, of course, was the son of the king, and Roman and Logan are both nobles, though Roman’s rank is much higher.   
  

  * Virgil was living in the kitchens, just starting to help his mother with her work, and though he should’ve been given a chance due to the day of his birth, no one knew it. But he snuck into the hatching chamber late one night anyway, knowing the guard at the door and knowing he’d be asleep. Virgil touched Rhiannon’s egg, but it didn’t react, and he snuck out again.  
  

  * Though many others touched her egg as well, Rhiannon made note of these four and marked them to eventually be not only riders but Thomas’s personal guard.  
  

  * Something that will serve him well, when disaster strikes.




	10. Beginnings: Logan

_Aefreth’s Abbey. 321 head of sheep, down from 354. 33 sheep lost during harsh winter, spring flooding. Reduce dragon tax accordingly._

The line of dark ink flickered and blurred before his eyes in the candlelight and Logan reached up under his spectacles to pinch the bridge of his nose, blinking firmly. He had pages yet of the annual tax rolls to get through, he didn’t have time for something as mundane as exhaustion. Not when he was  _ _working__.

His treacherous body didn’t seem to care, nearly cracking his jaw with a yawn. He set his quill stylus down with a sigh, glaring at the neat lines of black text on the parchment in front of him–neat lines that did, he had to admit, turn into something of a scrawl at the bottom of the page.

“Fine,” he muttered to himself, pushing his hair back from his eyes. Sleep might be even more of an inconvenience than eating, but it was, unfortunately, just as necessary. His work could likely wait until the morning; Lord Kervan had been more than satisfied with his progress, it was Logan himself who wanted to finish as quickly as possible. The quicker he could finish his duties, the more time he had for study and reading of his own choice. He was in the middle of Loreth’s Seventh Age history, and the lure of the first Dragon War was much stronger than updating tax rolls.

Sighing to himself, Logan capped his ink bottle, folded his penknife, and cleaned his stylus. Loreth would have to wait at least a few more days. For now he had sheep, cattle, pigs, and farmer’s excuses for their poor harvests to deal with. They were quick enough to accept the protection of the King’s Flight when border skirmishes or bandits threatened, but they certainly seem to forget their gratitude when it came to keeping the dragons fed.

Well. It wasn’t his concern if a farmer cheated on his taxes. He just copied the local sheriff’s report–it was on them if it wasn’t accurate. Logan’s only concern was getting to bed and getting some sleep.

He hauled himself to his feet, supporting his weight on the desk with one hand while he opened the lantern and snuffed his candle flame with the other. Shadows filled his small corner of the scriptorium, only a soft glow from the doorway behind him indicating the larger library beyond.

With another yawn, he took up his crutches and headed toward it, grateful his rooms were at least not far. Logan’s family might barely be considered noble, but his status had been enough to snag a set of quarters that might otherwise have been taken by a lower born librarian or clerk. They were nestled just one spiraling staircase below the scriptorium, a trip he could practically make in his sleep.

With any luck, there’d still be a page or two about, and he could get something from the kitchen, as well…a bit of bread and preserves, maybe some hot tea…

His mind–as usual–distracted and faraway, Logan made his slow way down to his rooms, unaware the familiar, comfortable routine of his existence was about to come to an end.


	11. Character Appearance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The characters do not look exactly like they do in the videos. Physical descriptions and reference photos of their usual type of outfits are below.

If you did, Tumblr ate it, so I’m glad you sent it again!! They do not look exactly like they do in the videos. Basic descriptions of them and examples of the types of clothes they usually wear are below!

 **Logan** :

  * Brown hair, which he keeps short to keep it out of his eyes.
  * Green eyes
  * He’s thin and pale, as he spends most his time indoors and frequently forgets to eat while he’s working or reading
  * He has well defined, strong arm muscles from using his crutches to get around
  * His legs are very thin.
  * He’s the second shortest at about 5’7”



Wears:

  * Mostly blue, black, and green, usually soft breeches, a loose shirt, a vest or doublet, and boots made to fit around his leg braces.
  * An example of his usual type of outfit. The sleeves are not attached and tie on, so the doublet can be worn with or without them.



    

* * *

 

**Roman** :

  * Sunbleached brown hair. Long enough to tie back to keep out of his eyes, otherwise falls in thick waves to frame his face.



  * Clear, sky blue eyes.
  * In incredibly good shape, well muscled and strong. He’s been training as a warrior since he was a child. His skin is richly tanned and scattered with thin ridges of scar tissue, evidence of the fights he’s won and lost.
  * He’s the tallest of the group, at 6’2”.



Wears:

  * He dresses the best out of all of them, in rich colors and fabrics. His shirts are silk or finely spun linen, his doublets brushed leather or heavily brocaded velvet. While the fabrics and cuts speak of royal formality, he wears them with a certain casualness–his doublet is usually open at the throat, the fine shirt showing through beneath. He’s most often in red and gold.
  * Examples of his usual outfits. He is the only one of them to regularly wear a half cape–and mostly as an excuse to swirl it off dramatically when the occasion calls for it.



 

 

* * *

**Virgil** :

  * Black hair, shaggy and inexpertly cut, and always falling in his face no matter what he does to stop it.
  * His eyes are a stormy hazel, and they’re so deeply set they’re almost in shadow.
  * He’s thin and lanky, but it’s a thinness of wiry muscle and whipcord strength. His skin is pale, and his face has sharp edges, all evidence that he’s not had life as easy up to now as the others. His skin, too, is scattered with scars, but not scars caused by swordplay.
  * He’s the second tallest, at nearly six feet, but he tends to slouch enough that it’s not noticeable unless he wants it to be.



Wears:

  * Before imprinting Caru, he wore plain, worn, shapeless breeches, shirt and vest, all cast offs from other servants, ill fitting and nearly colorless from too much wear. Over this he’d wear a tabard with the king’s crest while working.



 

  * After becoming a dragonrider, he’s given new clothes more suited to his station, but still prefers to dress more simply than the others, foregoing the brocaded, embroidered and hand tooled decoration the others wear without thinking. He also often wears a hooded cloak, finding the Dragon’s Den to be cold and drafty after a lifetime spent working near the kitchen fires. Given the choice, he wears black, gray, and purple. 



  


* * *

  **Patton** :

  * Sandy brown hair, so light it’s nearly blond, cut in the shorter style preferred by the nobles of Dracaren.
  * Brown eyes, wide and warm and friendly.
  * Round face, soft and cuddly, and despite the fact that he’s been training with a sword nearly as long as Roman, he’s still got a bit of pudge around his middle–not that he minds.
  * The shortest, at 5’5”



Wears:

  * Though he’s a prince, he doesn’t really care to wear things that truly reflect his station. He dresses for comfort first, color second, and style last. He doesn’t have Roman’s knack of making formal clothing look casual, and his lack of interest tends to make him look a bit rumpled, despite everyone else’s attempts to make him presentable. His favorite color is light blue, and most of his clothing incorporates it in some way.
  * A typical example of the type of outfit Patton prefers.



 

* * *

**Thomas** :

  * Thomas looks like Thomas! That is to say he looks like Thomas actually looks in real life, brown hair, brown eyes, 5’10” with an awesome booty and strong thighs.
  * He dresses somewhat between Roman and Patton–he doesn’t care for the incredibly ornate designs Roman does, but he does enjoy dressing well a bit more than Patton. And as the Crown Prince, looking presentable is important–though he tends to find a style he likes and stick with it, having the palace tailors make multiple copies in different fabrics and colors.



Wears:

  * An example of Thomas’s current favorite style of outfit:



  


* * *

**Dragon Leathers:**

  * Riding a dragon requires certain adjustments in wardrobe. Being high in the air with the wind rushing past you is cold, and they have to dress accordingly. The typical outfit is wool lined leather breeches, a wool or fleece lined leather doublet, buttoned to the throat, an insulating silk shirt beneath, goggles and a leather, fleece lined hat cut close to the scalp.
  * Those leathers can be plain or richly adorned, as shown below:



 

 

* * *

**Typical outfit Layers:**

  * For all of them, the typical outfit consists of a loose shirt, a doublet or vest, breeches, and tall boots. Accessories include a belt, pouches for coin purses and other necessities, an eating dagger, and any weapons they usually keep on them. Roman goes few places without his sword, Virgil always has at least three daggers hidden on him at any one time, and Logan’s rarely without a small blank book and a stick of charcoal with which to write in it. Patton always has small treats for any animal–drachling, dog, cat, and bird alike–and Thomas carries one of Rhiannon’s shed scales and small treats for Pongo, in addition to his sword and the dagger hidden in his boot.
  * In colder weather, they wear either long hooded cloaks or, often, their riding leathers. Cloaks are useless in the air, so most riders get out of the habit of using them, even on the ground.



  

  

 

 

* * *

 

(pictures from [Pendragon’s Costumes](https://pendragoncostumes.squarespace.com/doublets/), [Renboots.com](http://renboots.com/product-category/knee-boots/), and [OSF Costume Rental](https://www.osfcostumerentals.org/)s)


	12. Hatching

  * Logan works as a clerk, copying tax records in the scriptorium.


  * It’s not the most exciting work, but it gives him access to the palace library and satisfies his family’s obligation for service to the crown, since he’s not able to fight and serve in the guard.


  * He spends what free time he has reading, either in the library or, on clear, warm days, out in the gardens. This allows him to observe the other palace inhabitants that wander through, as well, and to see drachlings flitting about, and sometimes the dragons taking off from the Royal Den above the city.


  * Logan’s actually fairly lonely, but he wouldn’t admit it even silently to himself.


  * He keeps mostly to himself, so he’s incredibly surprised to be interrupted at his work one day by a leather and silk clad dragon rider, instantly recognizable by her clothing and windburned cheeks. He’s even more surprised when she identifies herself as a Seeker, and tells him he’s been chosen to be a candidate at the next hatching.


  * Despite his protests–to her, to Lord Kervan, to the Hatchling master–he finds himself being moved to the candidate quarters in anticipation of the Hatching.


  * The merchant’s son he’s rooming with completely agrees with Logan’s opinion that he shouldn’t be there, but at least doesn’t do anything worse than say so.


  * Logan thinks he’ll at least be able to take advantage of the sudden free time to get some reading done, but it turns out they have classes planned while they wait for the eggs to crack.


  * The classes are at least interesting, giving some history about the partnership between dragon and human–which Logan already knows, for the most part, but not in this much detail–and outlining what’s expected of dragon riders and what they do.


  * Considering how much of this seems to be the ability to fight, Logan’s even less sure why he’s there. No dragon is going to pick him…especially not with options like Prince Roman of the Redmarches, already a tourney champion at eighteen, Miss Varina, a blacksmith’s daughter acclaimed for her accuracy with a bow, or Barony Jaylen, who was perhaps not as skilled in combat, but was known for their wit and learning, and could still manage a small sword.


  * Logan continues to most keep to himself, though a lot of the other candidates seem to become friendly with each other. One, a round faced boy Logan assumes must be a commoner, since he hasn’t volunteered his lineage like most the nobles, seems determined to become friends with  _all_  of them.


  * Thankfully, the eggs start to show signs of hatching before the boy, Patton, has done much more than introduce himself. Logan does not want to be drawn into this group, not when he knows he’ll have to leave it again so quickly. There are only seven eggs, and nearly thirty candidates.


  * The candidates take in turns to stand watch until the all the hatchlings manage to make the first crack in their eggs. At that point word is sent out that hatching is imminent and Logan’s roused from his bed by Patton’s rough, excited shaking, the merchant’s son already gone.


  * Logan tells Patton to go on without him, strapping himself into his leg braces with shaking fingers. He should be glad. In a few hours this farce will finally be through, and he can go back to his work. He should be grateful, relieved…not feeling sick from anticipation.


  * By the time he gets to the hatching grounds, the others have already arrayed themselves in a loose semicircle around the eggs. Spectators are slowly filling the stands, many of them yawning. The Hatchings are always well attended, and this is the first of the year, but Logan thinks a few of the people settling themselves look as if they wish they’d been able to sleep longer.


  * Logan sinks down on the bench next to Patton, who gives him a bright, nervous smile. The eggs are all wobbling a bit, cracks growing on their dark surfaces, bits of shell falling to the ground here and there.


  * Suddenly, with a loud, indignant squawk, a large egg near the edge of the group splits in two, a brilliantly scarlet hatchling tumbling free from its confines. The little dragon squawks again, struggling to right itself, and a few of the candidates reach forward before remembering their lessons and pulling back. The dragon has to choose.


  * Finally, the little creature stands, flapping its stubby wings a few times, leathery skin and scales glistening from the wetness of the egg. The dragon looks over the group of them, squawk turning to a soft chirping cry.


  * Logan’s heart is in his throat, and he’s gripping his crutch handles tightly. The dragon isn’t for him, he knows that, but  _Gods_ …just for a moment he lets himself dream.


  * A moment in which the hatchling squeals suddenly, moving on shaking limbs toward the center of the group–and stopping right in front of Prince Roman. While it’s no surprise, Logan can’t stop the lump in his throat as Roman glances from side to side, then leans down, taking the hatchling in his arms, his voice full of wonder as he announces that she’s picked him, that her name is Aisling…and that she’s hungry. He chuckles as she wriggles close and presses her snout against his cheek, and for all his fastidiousness over the last week, he doesn’t seem to mind her mussing his expensive doublet.


  * Logan looks away as Roman murmurs to her, already moving toward the edge of the grounds where he’ll start his new life. Logan tugs off his spectacles, rubbing at his eyes, which have somehow started watering. No doubt due to the dusty earthen floor.


  * The next hatchling emerges only a few minutes later, an orange and white male that goes to a shy peasant girl whose name Logan can’t remember. She’s crying happily as she follows Roman off the grounds.


  * The five eggs left are rocking more, now, larger cracks appearing. Patton is vibrating with excitement beside Logan, babbling something Logan’s not able to concentrate on. Not when he feels even sicker, when his stomach is twisting and turning, when he desperately wishes he was anywhere else but here, here with the eyes of what feels like half the kingdom on him, here with his father no doubt in the stands, here where he’s going to fail. Again. This is worse than when he was five, when his legs were still strong, when he touched the Sovereign egg and  _nothing happened_.


  * A chubby light blue hatchling with white scales toddles toward Logan’s end of the group, but doesn’t even spare him a second glance, just lunges for Patton, who’s crying out in happiness, tears streaming down his cheeks, everything else forgotten.


  * A brief commotion on the other side of the grounds grabs Logan’s attention for a moment. One of the hatchlings, an incredibly small black one with patches of rainbow iridescent scales has ignored the group of candidates completely, instead heading for the stands behind it. No…not the stands, but rather around the edge of them. Logan blinks to see a ragged youth step forward, his clothing faded and patched, much too large for him, but still recognizable as servants’ livery. He seems to be arguing with the hatchling, but the baby dragon is having none of it, trying to climb him until the youth kneels and takes it in his arms.


  * Logan almost smiles. It isn’t unheard of for a dragon to pick someone not in the group of candidates, but it seems particularly appropriate now. The Seekers hadn’t found this boy…but they had picked Logan. So they obviously weren’t as skilled as some of his reading had indicated.


  * Three eggs remain, all well on their way to hatching. Two shatter almost simultaneously, their occupants, one black with brilliantly blue scales, the other pure white, falling out and scanning the remaining candidates. Logan watches as Jaylen is chosen by one, and a tall girl with dark skin, Bryony, he thinks, by the white.


  * The last egg is finally close to finished, and Logan forces himself to watch. To examine, catalog how the hatchling pushes itself out of the hole it’s created with its egg tooth. This one appears to be blue, a deep, midnight blue, its scales a dark green.


  * It gives one final wriggling push and plops to the ground, shaking its head and snorting indignantly. Logan snorts, the tension beginning to drain out of him. It’s almost over, soon enough he can go back to his own life. This can just be another time he didn’t live up to expectations. It should feel familiar enough not to sting now.


  * It doesn’t.


  * The hatchling stands at last, turning to look over the crowd first, then the hopefuls still gathered. It seems to take its time, as if it knows it’s the last one and all eyes are on it.


  * But then those bright green eyes meet Logan’s, and his heart–and time–seem to stop.


  * _(There you are!)_


  * The words are in his head, even as the hatchling hurries over, toward him, and then…then she’s there, in front of him. Somehow he knows she’s female, just as he’s somehow dropped to the ground to meet her, his hands coming up to cup her small head as she looks up into his eyes.  _(I’m Kavi, and you’re_ mine _.)_




	13. Meet the Drakes

(All pictures provided as general reference, not as final designs. Just the closest [Flight Rising](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww1.flightrising.com%2F&t=ZjE4OTkwZDc5ZWY2ZTJlOGMwOTQzMDM1ZmZlZDdlYjNhNmI1NmNhYyxkMTlSMTQ5RA%3D%3D&b=t%3A2V2WtF23t4QqYowDsEUHrQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fdragons-of-dracaren.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F165959702600%2Fi-love-this-already-can-we-meet-the-drakes&m=0) had to offer, and some additional textures)

**Rhiannon  
**

  


********Rhiannon is of course the oldest, having hatched the day Thomas touched her egg. She is not a drake, but a Sovereign, which is both her rank and her species. As such, she’s much longer and thinner than the others, and she has a thick ruff of fur around her face and down her back..

She also has access to a racial memory that the drakes do not. Sovereigns in some way know everything that any other Sovereign has ever learned. They do have their own personalities, so that knowledge is filtered through the lens of the individual, but it gives them wisdom beyond their years.

In Rhiannon’s case, it occasionally gives her a certain smug belief in herself that doesn’t always prove justified. She is still young, especially for one of her kind–they age much more slowly than the drakes, taking between 15-20 years to reach full maturity–but she is learning. Her enthusiasm sometimes beats out the caution her knowledge would otherwise lend her.

She is absolutely devoted to Thomas, and he spent many, many nights curled up with her when he first arrived in Rhysan. He still spends as much time with her as he can possibly spare from his own duties.

***

**Aisling**

  


Aisling is the largest from her clutch and on the upper end of the size a female dragon can reach. She’s much more pragmatic than Roman, who has a lot of high ideals about honor and knightly virtues, but doesn’t–often–challenge her rider on them. She’s a natural fighter, built for long, arduous flights that smaller, weaker dragons wouldn’t have the endurance to make. With Roman on her back, she’ll be the anchor of any formation, engaging the enemy’s larger dragons or attacking a castle as the smaller drakes run interference and protection around her.

While Roman has a tendency toward noble self-sacrifice, Aisling has the determination to take damage necessary to see things to the end. This can get them both in trouble, as they’ll stay in a fight after they should’ve disengaged, especially if it will give the others more time to escape.

She and Roman do share an appreciation for fine things, and she’s probably the most vain of the group, too, though she tries to hide it. She doesn’t enjoy getting dirty if she doesn’t have to, and Roman spends a good deal of time grooming her, something they both enjoy.

***

**Teren**

  


Teren is incredibly protective of Patton. He knows that Patton’s heart is huge and open and giving and loves him for it, but he also knows that Patton often gives more of himself then he can really afford to.

Luckily, Teren is something fairly rare–a dragon healer. His gifts of empathy are particularly deep, and he can comfort and heal emotional wounds. As his rider–and as it fits his own nature–Patton learns a great deal of healing himself–and learns just how important it is to take care of one’s self first. He has to make certain Teren doesn’t overextend himself, and Teren uses that worry to be sure Patton doesn’t do the same.

They are also both homebodies at heart, wishing for little more than good food, good friends, and peace.

***

**Kavi**

  


Kavi is bright and curious, and very possessive of Logan. She can feel his doubt about his worthiness to ride her, and this translates when she’s younger into an intense insistence on being near him, and making sure no one takes him away. Though this eases some as she grows up and he grows more comfortable with his place, their bond is deeper than many because of it.

While Kavi’s not as big as Aisling, and she’s not as small as Caru, she’s lean and her wings are large for her size, making her uniquely suited for flying above the tide of battle. From there, Logan will be able to analyze the flow of troops on the ground, of the dragons in the air, and provide the information needed to best direct the tide to whoever is in charge. As they grow more skilled and prove themselves, this will eventually be Logan himself.

Kavi’s emotions run deep, but very near the surface, and she feels no shame or hinderance in expressing them–whether that’s her fierce love for her rider, her incredible joy in flying, or even her anger, which flares hot and dies just as quickly.

***

**Caru**

  


Caru is the smallest from their clutch–and smaller than average, even for a nemale (a non-gendered dragon). They’re also  _incredibly_  stubborn, and not particularly interested in following the rules. They picked Virgil because as far as they’re concerned, Virgil is the most amazing person in the world, and they will not let anyone else say differently–especially not Virgil himself.

Any time Virgil says anything self-deprecating, Caru will interrupt him–and if they’re in the same room, Caru will grab Virgil’s hand–gently–in their teeth and shake it. As Caru grows, this will eventually escalate into Caru lifting Virgil up by his tunic and shaking him–but by then it’s an old game between them, and makes Virgil laugh. Virgil’s even started to believe them.

Caru’s speed, size, and coloring make the two of them an excellent scouting team…and assassins, if it comes to it. Virgil’s better acquainted with some of the harsher realities than the nobles around him, and Thomas will use that when necessary.

* * *

 

Thanks to[ this handy website](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fsocialcompare.com%2Fen%2Ftools%2Fcompare-sizes&t=NmU0Zjc4NzU4ZTU2ZjI1ZTBiNzJkODMxZGI4YWYyMGYxNGVmOTRlOSxuWFZaN1ZNUQ%3D%3D&b=t%3A2V2WtF23t4QqYowDsEUHrQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fdragons-of-dracaren.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F166384851155%2Fwhats-the-size-comparison-between-all-the-drakes&m=0), my lack of art skills won’t stop me from being able to provide a size comparisons of all the dragons and their riders.

These are the dragon’s adult sizes, Rhiannon in particular is not full-grown yet, and the others will take several years to get there.

Rhiannon, Logan and, Kavi:

Logan and Kavi:

  
Hatchling:

Adult:

Rhiannon and Thomas:

Roman and Aisling:

Patton and Teren:  
  


Virgil and Caru:  
  


All together:

  



	14. Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set immediately after the hatching.

“There ya’ go, lad, that should get them started.” A cheerful, gruff-voiced man clapped Virgil on the shoulder and set down a large bowl filled with chunks of meat. “But don’t let ‘em eat too fast, they’ll stuff themselves silly given half a chance!”

He didn’t wait for Virgil’s response, but left again, carrying another large bowl across the cavern toward another new rider. There were seven of them all together, each focused on the hatchling in front of them even as others from the Den moved around them, delivering meat or speaking softly.

The dragon hatchling in front of Virgil nudged his hand hopefully, drawing him back from his thoughts.  _(I’m hungry!)_  Caru reminded him, a desperate whine coloring the voice in his mind.  _(_ Very _hungry.)_

“Right, sorry.” Virgil shook himself and turned back, holding out a chunk of meat the size of his hand to Caru, who took it surprisingly delicately for as ravenous as Virgil could feel they were. The drake’s hunger pangs were twisting Virgil’s own stomach and he swallowed hard against them.

But then maybe it wasn’t just Caru’s hunger tying him in knots. Not when…when Caru had, apparently, actually  _imprinted_ on him. On  _him_ , a friendless bastard. A kitchen boy too old for his position, who’d been one wrong move from losing it and ending up on the streets.

A worthless peasant, with nothing to offer, who shouldn’t…

 _(Stop it!)_ Caru growled, taking Virgil’s hand in their mouth and shaking it sharply, though their teeth didn’t break the skin.  _(You’re mine and you’re_ wonderful _and I love you.)_

Virgil flushed. “You could’ve picked someone better,” he said in an undertone, glancing around to be sure none of the new riders around him had heard. They all seemed too busy feeding their own hatchlings to be paying any attention to him, but he couldn’t be sure. “Someone who deserves you. I’m gonna muck this all up…”

 _(You won’t.)_  Caru sounded very smug as they released Virgil’s hand to accept another hunk of meat.  _(And there’s no one better. No one else to pick. Had to be you. Because I love you.)_

Virgil’s face flamed even hotter, but he couldn’t deny that–unworthy as he might be of their affection–the little dragon wasn’t lying. Not when Virgil could actually  _feel_  their emotions rising up in his own body. Which…Gods, that was weird. He’d heard about it, of course, everyone knew the drakes and their riders had a special bond, but…hearing about it and experiencing it were different things.

But it’d be lying not to admit he already felt the same. He knew he didn’t deserve Caru, but the idea of being separated from them…no. No, it was unthinkable. “I…I love you, too,” he admitted, reaching out with his free hand to gently stroke Caru’s eye-ridges. The baby drake’s eyes closed in pleasure and they leaned into the touch.

_(Good. Can I have more to eat?)_

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Virgil chuckled softly.

Only when Caru had eaten all they could hold and curled up in a warm, heavy ball over Virgil’s lap did he really let himself look at the others. They, like him, had each been led to one of the low benches arranged facing the front of the hall. No one was there, now, but Virgil supposed the table set in front meant this room was used for some kind of training, usually. For now, the drakes were sprawled on the floor, stuffing themselves, and like he himself, most of the riders had ignored the benches and sat beside their new drakes.

He supposed he’d have to get to know all of them, now. They’d likely be learning to be dragonriders together as the baby drakes grew up…he’d be spending the next few years in close contact with the other six.

And they probably all already knew each other, if they’d been chosen by the Seekers. They’d have had time before the eggs hatched, maybe weeks, all spent getting to know each other, getting to know what was expected of them, preparing for this…and he’d been thrown in with no warning. Dammit. He was going to be the odd one out here, too.

Virgil sighed, stroking Caru’s back as the hatchling settled into a heavy sleep, their contentment thrumming through him. Well. Maybe he would be the odd one out among the riders. But he had Caru. That was one more ally than he’d had in the kitchens since his mother had died.

It still wasn’t enough to soothe his nerves completely.

“Hullo!”

Virgil just kept himself from jumping at the sudden genial greeting, and looked up to see a plump, round-faced boy about his own age plopping down beside him, a blue and white drake crawling into his lap as he settled. His clothing was well made, but not ornate, his hair a sandy blond cut in the short style currently fashionable at court, his smile open and cheerful.

Virgil nodded, his own shaggy, unevenly cut hair falling into his eyes. “Um…hello,” he offered, trying to force himself to relax when his immediate, wary reaction had Caru shifting uneasily in their sleep. Shit, he was  _not_  going to upset his hatchling.

“I’m Patton,” the boy said, rubbing his own hatchling’s belly as the drake stretched its limbs in all directions. “And this is Teren. Can you believe they picked us?”

“Uh…no,” Virgil admitted, looking down at Caru and feeling a soft smile spread across his face. At least he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe his luck. “No, I really can’t. Um. This is Caru. I’m Virgil.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Patton said, giggling softly as Teren sneezed. “Lucky you were watching from the stands, huh? They’d’ve had to go looking for you otherwise. But then I guess it’s true that everyone who’s supposed to imprint ends up being there. Or at least that’s the saying. Of course if it was  _always_  true, they wouldn’t have had to go looking for Thomas, would they? So maybe it’s not and it  _was_  lucky.”

“Maybe,” Virgil agreed, unable to hold back a slight smile. Patton’s lighthearted chatter was comforting, in a way, and at least he was  _talking_  to Virgil. It might not last long, but it was nice for now. “I mean…it was, I…I never really expected this.” Sure, he’d snuck out to every hatching he could, he’d dreamed of it ever since his mother had taken him to see the Sovereign egg when he’d been a little kid, since he’d actually  _touched_  it…but he wasn’t special, not like Prince Thomas. This wasn’t supposed to actually  _happen_  for him…

“Me either,” Patton said brightly. “But I’m super glad it did. Oh!” he jumped, suddenly, his eyes going wide. “You don’t know anyone yet! You weren’t here before! Do you want me to introduce you around? We’re all gonna be pretty close, since we’ll be training together.”

“That’d be…yeah, thanks,” Virgil said, glancing over at Patton, who had still had a wide, friendly smile on his open face. Maybe…maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe training would be okay. He had Caru, and now someone was actually talking to him…maybe things would be different here.

“Great!” Patton grinned, looking over their fellow riders, all gathered into the corner of the cavern, their hatchlings in various states of eating–or, like Caru and Teren–falling asleep after gorging. “Well…maybe  _actual_  introductions will have to wait, until they’re not so busy. But I can point everyone out at least. Let’s see. There’s me, of course, and then that over there–” he pointed to a tall, richly dressed youth with long, sun-streaked hair that reached his shoulders “–is Prince Roman of the Redmarches. He’s a lot of fun, once you get past all his stuffiness. You should hear him sing!”

Virgil examined the prince, frowning slightly. In his experience, no one with as much authority as a prince would be used to was  _fun_ …he’d have to watch himself with this Prince Roman. He was likely to be touchy about being forced into contact with a peasant.

“The two girls are Bryony and Kate. Katie’s shy and timid as a church-mouse, but Bryony makes up for her! She’s a trader’s daughter, while Katie’s father has a sheep farm outside the city,” Patton went on, pointing to a tall, dark skinned girl with close cropped black hair. Close beside her sat a plump and pale brunette, at least a head shorter than her companion. She looked like the peasant Patton had named her, in her layers of skirts and waist length braid, and while Bryony’s breeches and tunic were expertly cut, the fabric wasn’t even as fine as Patton’s. A trader and a shepherdess. At least Virgil wasn’t the only commoner.

“Then that’s Barony Jaylen, they’re very clever with words and love pranks, over there by themself.” This time Patton gestured to an enby with close cropped hair and an engaging smile, currently focused on their dragon. A bright blue drachling sat on one of their shoulders, it’s small head tilted to the side as it examined the blue and black hatchling in Jaylen’s lap. “And that just leaves Lord Logan of Coire Dubh,” he finished.

Virgil glanced over at the last of the riders and a start of recognition went through him. He recognized the slim, angular figure–the only rider actually sitting on a bench and not the ground–whose shock of dark hair fell over his eyes as he leaned forward to feed his drake with long, ink-stained fingers.

Virgil had more than once brought a late night meal from the kitchens to Lord Logan’s rooms near the scriptorum, and…yes. He saw the familiar pair of crutches leaning against the bench as well. He would’ve expected the clerk’s weak legs to keep him from imprinting, but obviously not. His drake seemed sure of her choice, at least, she was leaning against him, her face turned up to his.

Good. Virgil had always rather liked Logan–he was always perfectly polite, never demanded nearly as much as he could’ve, and had a sly, understated sense of humor Virgil appreciated. 

“–quiet, but he’s very smart,” Patton went on, and Virgil realized he’d been speaking the entire time, even as Virgil’d been distracted. “He already knew almost everything in the lessons we’ve had so far, and corrected Master Varnet a few times.”

Virgil snorted softly. “Bet that went over well.”

Patton laughed. “Well…Logan  _was_  right, as it turned out. So, now you know about all of us. What about you?”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, ducking his head. “Oh…uh. I’m supposed to be cleaning the castle’s breakfast dishes about now,” he admitted. “The head cook’s probably wondering where I’ve run off to.”

“Can I be there when you tell him?” Patton asked, laughing. “‘Oh, sorry I missed out on my duties, but I’m a dragonrider now, you know how it goes…’” He giggled again, smile softening as Teren curled up closer in his lap. “Bet he wouldn’t believe it.”

“Not sure I do,” Virgil admitted, as Caru began to snore, softly. “Patton…they…” He bit his lip. “They don’t ever…pick wrong, do they?”

“Nope,” Patton said firmly, with such confidence Virgil could almost believe him. “Never. Especially not if Caru had to hunt you down from the crowd.”

“I…I guess,” Virgil said, worrying at a bit of chapped skin on his bottom lip. “But…I don’t…I don’t know what to do for them.”

Patton shrugged. “That’s what all the lessons’ll be for. And Logan and I can help you catch up! He already knows everything, and my brother’s a rider, so I know a lot, too. Besides, right now we’ve just go to feed them and love them and watch them sleep. They won’t be big enough to  _ride_  for a couple years, Verge! You’ve got time to learn how.”

“Verge?” Virgil repeated, feeling the knots in his stomach finally start to loosen. Patton seemed so sure of himself, so matter-of-fact…maybe he was right. And if his  _brother_  was a rider…then surely he’d know?

“Yep,” Patton said, pushing himself up as Teren rolled over and off his legs. “It fits you. Now c’mon! Let’s go meet some of the others; we’ve got catching up to do!”

Virgil stood, gathering Caru into his arms, and followed Patton over toward the girls. He still wasn’t sure he belonged here, still wasn’t sure how they’d all react when they found out about him, but…but maybe as long as he had Caru, as long as he could learn enough, as long as Patton kept talking to him…maybe this would work. Maybe he could do this right.

And maybe he’d actually finally  _belong_.


	15. Cheating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set immediately before Training

“You…you  _cheated!_ ” Roman rose from the ground, sputtering, wiping dust from his eyes.

“Uh…yeah?” Virgil replied, struggling to catch his breath, his whole body aching.

 He hadn’t wanted to do this in the first place. Learning to fight, fine, yeah, that made sense. He wasn’t gonna be like Logan, and refuse completely. But Roman could’ve just…started formally teaching them.

Instead, the prince had insisted on “seeing what skills they had” before he began any kind of lessons. Which, okay, Virgil could see a point there. No need to go over things they already knew. And Patton had handled himself fine–Roman had beaten him, but from what Virgil had heard Roman usually beat everybody. He was a tournament champion for a reason. But Patton had known the moves and it’d taken Roman a bit.

Then he’d turned to Virgil, and, well…no. Virgil didn’t really know how to fight with a sword and obey the rules of combat. But he hadn’t survived as a friendless bastard by not knowing how to fight at  _all_.

Maybe ducking and rolling away from sword strikes, tumbling off to the sides, and finally throwing dirt in Roman’s eyes before sweeping his legs out from under him wasn’t “chivalrous” but it had fucking  _worked_. And the point was to win, right? So why did Roman look so…pissed off?

“Not like I was gonna beat you with a sword, Princey,” Virgil pointed out, running a hand back through his sweat-soaked hair. “I’ve never used one.”

“But you…you…you’re not supposed to stoop to…” Roman pulled himself visibly under control, his eyes still red and watering.

“It seemed a fairly effective tactic to me,” Logan said mildly from the sidelines.

Roman frowned, glancing over at him before shaking his head. “Effective or not, it’s outside the rules of combat.”

“Bullshit.” Virgil flinched slightly when Roman’s gaze turned back to him, but held his ground. “Maybe it’d get me disqualified in a tournament, but I don’t actually give a fuck about that. If I’m in a fight, I’m fighting to win. There’ll be people  _depending_  on me winning. I’m not gonna let some stupid set of rules keep me from doing what I have to.”

“Fine!” Roman picked up the wooden practice sword Virgil had knocked out of his hand when he’d been blinded, his jaw clenching. “Fine. You’ve made your point, and I suppose a peasant such as yourself cannot be expected to obey the laws of a gentleman. But if you insist on using such tactics, I’m not the one to train you. Perhaps Gareth, Jerrick’s rider, will be a better fit.”

“Fine by me,” Virgil returned between gritted teeth, trying to pretend Roman’s continued disdain for his common origins didn’t sting. He’d beaten him, hadn’t he? How many people could say that?

“Fine,” Roman agreed. “Now,” he said, turning to Logan as Virgil picked up his things and headed out of the room. “As for you…”

Virgil escaped, feeling vaguely guilty for leaving Logan alone to face Roman’s ire, but not guilty enough to stay for any more of it himself.


	16. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set approximately a year and a half to two years after the Hatching. This begins the main plot.

“You are utterly infuriating!” Roman snapped, rounding on Logan the moment the door of the indoor practice room closed behind Virgil, leaving Logan alone with the prince and his wrath. “You’re too intelligent not to see how necessary this training is, Logan, I simply do not understand why you insist on…”

“I’m not  _insisting_ on anything,” Logan interrupted acidly, crossing his arms over his chest. He could’ve wished he wasn’t stuck sitting on a low bench while Roman towered over him, pacing over the woven mats spread across the polished wood floor. This was ridiculous enough, even without the prince literally looking down on him. “But you’re right about one thing. I  _am_  intelligent. Intelligent enough to know what you’re expecting isn’t possible.”

“It certainly isn’t if you refuse to even  _try_.” Roman raked his free hand back over his long hair, pushing away strands that’d escaped the tie holding it back.

“Trying isn’t going to change anything, your highness.” Logan didn’t–quite–sneer the title. “And I’m happy enough to leave the physical prowess to the rest of you, I don’t see why…”

“Because it’s going to get you  _killed_ , you unmitigated ass!” Roman cut him off, tossing aside his wooden practice sword with a clatter. “Your ridiculous,  _childish_  refusal to listen to me, to let me  _help_ you is going to cost you your life, or the life of your dragon. Dammit all, is that what you  _want_?”

Hearing his deepest fears spoken, so baldly, so openly, twisted Logan’s stomach and made his mouth go dry. He’d known, known from the moment Kavi had picked him that it might come to that, he just hadn’t…he hadn’t expected to have it thrown so obviously in his face.

But he’d be damned if he gave Roman the satisfaction of seeing how deeply his words cut. “Of course it’s not,” Logan countered, struggling to keep his voice even, calm, even as he couldn’t quite meet Roman’s gaze. “And I fail to see how you intend to manage something no healer has managed in over a decade.”

“Oh for the love of…I’m not intending to heal your damn legs.” Roman dropped to an easy crouch in front of Logan, forcing him to look him in the face. “And I’m not so naive as to think a few bouts with me will work some miracle and have you throwing your crutches aside.”

“Then what…”

“There’s nothing wrong with your arms or your mind,” Roman said pointedly. “And your legs may never be strong enough to hold you on their own, but they could still no doubt be stronger than they are now. I don’t intend to turn you into a knight, Logan, but you need to learn to use what you’ve got to fight  _back_.”

Logan swallowed, gritting his teeth. He’d spent most of the last ten years trying to ignore that he had a body at all…why did Roman have to insist on focusing on it? Why couldn’t Logan’s facility with strategy, his knowledge of dragon lore and rearing be  _enough_?

_Because all the lore and theory will be meaningless when you go to battle_ , his treacherous brain answered him mercilessly.  _Because you_ will _go to battle, there are too many skirmishes on the borders, too much tension with the centaurs, too few dragons available to avoid it. Because at some point you are going to have to fight, and you can’t go into a fight without some way of defending yourself. Because you can’t guarantee Kavi can keep you on her back, and you have to be able to defend her if she can’t stay in the air. Because you might be caught off guard by assassins trying to put a dragon out of commission by killing her rider._

_Because Roman is_ right _, damn him._

The thoughts flashed through his mind one after the other and Logan raised his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. This was ridiculous. He wouldn’t be able to fight, his father had said so often enough, after the fever. And where would that leave Kavi?

She shouldn’t have picked him.

Distantly, he could feel her sleepy indignation at his thoughts, and Logan forced them away. Kavi was growing so quickly, she needed her rest…and not to again listen to her rider doubting himself. Maybe she shouldn’t have imprinted on him, but he wasn’t going to make the choice harder on her than it had to be.

“Fine,” he conceded aloud, letting out a long breath. “You…you may have a point. But I still don’t see how admitting I’m a liability to the group is going to get us anywhere…or why you think it’s your duty to point it out.”

“My duty is to serve Aisling, Prince Thomas, and the crown,” Roman said, somehow making the rather pompous words sound almost noble. “It is  _not_  to feed into your delusion that you are incapable of learning to defend yourself. Good Gods, man, do you have any idea how many soldiers are wounded and learn to fight again?”

Logan felt his cheeks flush. “That’s not the same…”

“Like hell it isn’t,” Roman countered, pushing himself to his feet. “You are only a liability if you allow yourself to be. And I don’t intend to let that happen. You may be a stubborn ass, Logan of Coire Dubh, but so am I. I’ll see you here tomorrow to begin training.”

And with that he strode off, not knowing they’d never get that chance.


	17. Misc Questions Answered:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The answers to miscellaneous asks that have been submitted to the tumblr

_So you said that Logan isn't particularly religious, but are any of the others? Do they pay tribute to a particular God or Gods, or are they all largely uninterested?_

 That is an excellent question!

  * Virgil
    * Virgil was brought up to revere the Gods and as a small child he did. That’s changed somewhat as he’s grown up.
    * The teachings of the church are kindness and compassion, something he didn’t see from his tormentors. He couldn’t understand how he could pray for it to stop, for them to be nicer, and it not to happen
    * He lost most of his faith when his mother died and left him alone. While Logan is somewhat agnostic, Virgil still believes. But he doesn’t attend services or pray, figuring if the Gods won’t look out for him, he’ll look out for himself.  

  * Thomas
    * Thomas’s earliest memories are of living in a temple. He was taken in as an orphan, and doesn’t know who his parents were.
    * The temple, the incense and the chanting of the priests and priestesses are comforting memories for him, even now.
    * He regularly prays and reveres the Gods, and is likely the most devout of the five of them.
    * While he doesn’t pay tribute to a specific face of the Great Mother, he does pray to her most often, especially as he had no mother of his own.  

  * Roman
    * Roman believes fervently. He has always loved the ceremony and mystery of services–as well as the stories of the lives of the Gods. He used to pester the temple priest at his parents’ castle for as many of them as possible.
    * He pays tribute to Zoreya, the Warrior face of the Mother Goddess. She protects those warriors who show honor in battle.  

  * Patton
    * Patton cheerfully attends services and loves the stories. He’s not sure if they’re truly real, or if they’re just good lessons on how to live, but that part doesn’t really matter to him.
    * He’s determined to live his life in the way that will most help others and to do the most good he can while he’s alive. He thinks if the Gods  _are_  real, they’ll appreciate that, and if they’re not, then at least the people who he’s helped will.
    * Because of the charity work he does with his mother, he actually spends more time in temples than any of the others, as they organize the feeding of the poor in the city.



* * *

  _What would have happened if Virgil had not snuck into the Hatching Ceremony? What would have happen to Caru, what would they do?_

 There are rare occasions when a hatchling finds no one suitable and doesn’t imprint on a human. Usually when this happens, they’ll instead imprint on an adult drake, as they would in the wild. These drakes may choose to accept a rider at a later point in their life, but it is more of a working partnership between friends, not the sort of deep soulbond that a rider and drake who’ve been together since the drake hatched experience.

That said, there’s a strong suspicion that someone meant to imprint will be called to be present when their dragon hatches and a hatchling not picking  _anyone_ present–either from the candidates or the crowd–is incredibly rare. Whether that’s because it is true or because most hatchlings could successfully partner with several different people and make their best choice is up for debate.

In Caru’s case, however, only Virgil would do. What most likely would have happened is that they would have been cared for by the adult drakes and riders at the Den, until Virgil snuck out to watch the drakes flying, or finagled his way into helping deliver supplies to the den kitchens, or managed any one of the myriad of ways he has to get himself near the drakes, which he does at least once a week.

And then Caru would’ve made a run for him.

* * *

_What happened to Logan's legs? Sorry if this has been asked before_

 It hasn’t! I’ve made reference to it being a “childhood illness” but haven’t expanded on it more than that.

Short answer is: he had polio.

An epidemic broke out in the village attached to Logan’s father’s lands when he was six. His mother went with the healers from the castle to help and caught it herself, unknowingly bringing it back with her.

She died and Logan was left partially paralyzed. He regained his strength and learned to walk again, but his knees are weak and bend in the wrong direction and his feet drag if they’re not braced(pictures of crutches and leg braces of the same general type as his are below the cut).

He spent the months of his recovery with the monk who was his tutor, and fell in love with reading and study, as they could take him away from himself and his grief over losing his mother.

His father is a gruff man who loved his wife very, very much, and has never been sure how to relate to his son. If Logan was a knight, he feels, they’d at least have common ground and something to talk about. But he’s not, and he takes very strongly after his mother, and so Lord Alistair continues to blunder horribly trying to connect to him. He’s not a bad man, he’s just not good with strong emotions–a way in which he and Logan are very much alike. He knows it’s his own fault he and Logan are estranged, but he’s not sure how to fix it.

Likely as Logan gets older and comes more into his own–and realizes his father is also just a fallible human being–they’ll be able to work at least a few things out. It will be a revelation to Logan that his father was never disappointed in him, and in fact feels like he failed to protect Logan and his mother. 

They may never be close, but they’ll come to an understanding of each other.

Which is more information than you asked for!

  
  
  


* * *

  _I love this AU so much! I was a little confused as to how Patton could be a Prince (or I guess just the son of the King) without drawing a ton of attention, but I underestimated the force of his I-do-what-I-want. I loved the interactions between Virgil and Caru. Everything that comes out of this AU is fun and dynamic, even when drawing on traditional fantasy tropes. I was curious, are there other beasts in this world beside dragons? Unicorns or anything?_

Awww, thank you!!

And yes, if there were any kind of media in this world, there’s no way “Prince Morgan” could be basically undercover. But none of the other three have ever met him–Roman hasn’t been to the Capital since he was five, Logan’s supremely uninterested in court, so has kept to himself since coming to the castle to work, and of course Virgil’s been in the kitchens. There were probably a few others among the candidates who  _did_  know, but with Patton being pretty insistent on not getting any special treatment let it go. If Prince Morgan wanted to pretend to be a commoner, who were they to call him on it?

And Patton’s enjoying getting the chance to just  _talk_  to everyone, without them immediately bowing and getting all stuffy and formal. And now that he’s imprinted, he’s a rider, and that’s the only rank that matters to him.

For your second question, yes! Absolutely. There are unicorns, wyverns, gryphons, etc. The dragons are the most obvious, since they have an alliance with the humans, but other fantasy creatures absolutely exist. There’s even some tentative trading with the mermaids and mermen, though it’s only been established recently. Roman, in particular, has learned a few of their songs and has a coral ring he treasures.

The centaurs, now…that’s another story.

* * *

  _I'm a little confused, what exactly are the Seekers and what do they do?_

The Seekers are dragonriders whose drakes are particularly good at identifying potential new riders. It’s a variation on the gift of empathy that all drakes have. They’re usually fairly accurate–while not everyone they bring to Hatching becomes a rider, they almost all end up staying on to work with the drakes and the riders in some capacity.

What exactly indicates a good candidate isn’t really known. Even the Seeker drakes just say they somehow know. They can also identify candidates without much interaction–Logan was chosen by a Seeker drake who was flying over the gardens when he was out reading, for example.

There’s at least one Seeker at every Dragon Den throughout the kingdom, and any time there’s a clutch getting close to hatching, this group will start bringing likely candidates to the Royal Den in preparation. They spend the time prior to the Hatching in lessons and in getting to know each other, since those chosen will be members of the same class.

Of course, the Seekers don’t always find every possible candidate, and sometimes a member of the crowd imprints a drake instead.

* * *

_Well now I'm curious about the centaurs. Is that a "yeah, they don't exist" that's-another-story or a "heheheh, wait and see~!" that's-another-story?_

It’s a “things are a great deal more tense between our peoples than they are with the mers” story. The centaur and human settlements aren’t openly hostile, but there’ve been skirmishes on both sides, and it’s an uneasy situation. The leaders on both sides would prefer peace, but the border is a good distance from both capitals, and old prejudices die hard.

* * *

_Is Virgil's father secretly someone important or does he exist only as back story? Like, will Virgil meet him?_

Virgil may never find out who his father is for certain–his mother definitely didn’t tell him–but actually, yes. He is someone fairly important, and Virgil will meet him, though he won’t know their connection at the time.

He’s a noble. Is, in fact, the ruler of a small vassal kingdom. Because he owes allegiance to Dracaren, he’s known not as King Dominic, but as a prince–as is his only other son.

A son who bears a striking resemblance to Virgil, though his hair is lighter, and he’s both taller and more muscular, having never wanted for food and been training to fight since childhood. He’s a skilled jouster, an excellent swordsman, and has recently imprinted a dragon named Aisling.

 

(In other words, yep. Virgil and Roman are brothers)

* * *

_okay question time!!! virgil and roman are brOTHERS WHAT!!! who are their mothers? what was their father's relationship with their mothers like? do their mothers know each other? is virgil ever gonna find out who his dad is? are him and roman ever gonna find out they're brothers? how will they react??? so many quESTIONS_

SO MANY ANSWERS

  1. Virgil and Roman are brothers, yes!  

  2. Virgil’s mother, Moira, was a maid in Rhysan Castle, until she proved to be pregnant out of wedlock. At that point she was sent to the kitchens and she stayed there after Virgil was born, as it was an easier place to keep an eye on him, and kept that position until she died when Virgil was fifteen. It was while she was a maid and Prince Dominic was in the castle for a political visit that he “invited” her to his bed–and it was not the place of a maid to refuse a prince.  

  3. Roman’s mother is the Princess Aleia, and is married to his father. It’s a political marriage and there is little warmth between them; they spend almost no time in each other’s company. While Roman closely physically resembles his father, he is much more like his mother, having her kindness, compassion, and sense of honor.   

  4. Aleia and Moria may have met in passing, during that visit, but they had no real contact with each other. Aleia was in the early part of her pregnancy with Roman and busy with the courtesies of the visit, and a maid’s place is to do her job and not be noticed.  

  5. Moira never told Virgil who his father was, nor did she even find out about the pregnancy until after Dominic had returned to the Redmarches. She took the secret to the grave. However, Virgil does resemble his father, though he has his mother’s dark hair and eyes, and his position as a member of Roman’s wing means they are likely to meet. Dominic doesn’t remember Moira in particular, but might recognize her eyes in a face so like his own.   
  
And even if he doesn’t, Roman is no fool, and there are only so many explanations for why this peasant kitchen boy looks so familiar.  

  6. If it comes out that Virgil and Roman are brothers, how they react will depend very much on when it happens. If it’s early after imprinting their dragons, it won’t go well. Virgil is living proof of Dominic’s adultery and poor treatment of others and while a part of Roman knows his father is not as good a man as he wants him to be, he’s not yet ready to confront that. For Virgil’s part, he’s had no great reason to trust men in authority, and he’s likely to resent the privileges Roman’s had while Virgil and Moira were scraping by. They will likely get past this, given time, but it will drive another wedge between the two who are already most at odds in this group.  
  
If it happens later on, once a friendship has grown between them on its own, it may immediately bring them closer together. Virgil will learn from all of the other three that not every noble uses their power for personal gain, and Roman will learn a  _lot_  from Virgil about the real world. He’s been largely sheltered, and needs to have his eyes opened. 



* * *

_Question: what happens to a dragon when their rider dies or vice versa?_

(Taken from the Dragon Lore page [here](https://dragons-of-dracaren.tumblr.com/post/165708829265/dragon-lore).)

  * Drakes have roughly the same lifespan as their riders, 60-80 years or so. They reach full maturity at about four to five, but full growth at about three.   

  * Riders who lose their drakes sometimes bond with drakes who’ve lost their riders and vice versa. Others remain as trainers, others leave the life completely. Riderless drakes often stay as trainers, perform basic guard duties. The loss is a significant trauma for either side, however, and some never fully recover.  

  * Because of the toll that losing one half of the pair takes on the other, it’s rare for opposing forces to use lethal force against enemy riders/drakes. They more often attempt capture and ransom, if for no other reason that they wish their own drakes to be treated the same.



To expand on that a bit, every attempt is made to be certain that neither one of the pair loses the other. Assuming both make it to old age, neither rider or dragon is likely to live very long after the death of the other of natural causes. Otherwise the loss of the bond does not immediately kill the other, but is keenly felt and takes years from which to recover. 

And there’s been only a few times in history that a rider did something so heinous their dragon abandoned them, voluntarily severing the bond. But it  _has_  happened.

* * *

_What would make a dragon leave its rider?_

Very little. Dragonriders are chosen by the Seekers–or, as in Virgil’s case, directly by the drakes. As such, they have several things in common. They’re honest, honorable, hard-working, have a certain tolerance for pain, and an utter devotion to what they consider their duty.

As such, trusting them with a giant fire-breathing menace is actually not much of a danger, especially as that fire-breathing menace also has a mind of its own.

However, people can change.

Michael of Trebourne was a young nobleman who lived a few centuries before the current timeline. He imprinted a drake, Arina, and rose quickly through the ranks of the flights, ending up with his own command. He married well, and had three children, all of whom lived on Trebourne lands during the Hevonan wars.

And that is what led to his downfall.

Trebourne was a border fief, and when the Hevon’s allies swept across Dracaren’s southern border, they ravaged the castle, torturing and killing its occupants. Michael might have survived this loss, but he learned that another dragonrider, a scout captured by the enemy, had given up the information that led to his family’s deaths.

He went mad with grief and killed that rider’s drake in revenge. Arina, horrified by what her rider had done, repudiated him and delivered him to the capital for justice. While he likely would have been sentenced to death, the loss of his family and of his drake had broken his mind, and Michael died before the sentence could be pronounced, much less carried out.

His story remains one of warning, and has caused many riders to either forgo families outside of the Dens, or to at least be sure their own are well guarded in times of war.

* * *

_I'm loving this AU!!! But I do have a question. You said that Caru would be the best out of the others for assassinations, but I'm curious as to what situation Thomas would be in that he'd need that. Also, how would it make Virgil feel?_

While assassination is not a fun thing to think about, it is true that sometimes the death of one person can prevent that of many, many others. There may come a time when Thomas is faced with a situation where a group of enemies have a single charismatic leader with their own agenda, and if that leader died, they’d be enemies no longer.

In that case, Caru being both small and darkly colored means they’d be able to fly Virgil in under the cover of darkness to get close to that leader.

But it wouldn’t be Caru carrying out the assassination.

After training, Virgil knows how to blend in with peasants, warriors, and nobles alike. He knows how to make himself unnoticed, he knows that a kitchen boy delivering food is not likely to be remarked upon, or looked on with suspicion.

And Virgil will do whatever it takes to protect Thomas, to protect Caru, to protect the people he cares about.

So Virgil might feel some guilt, when he slips a dagger into someone’s side, or adds a few drops of poison to their food, or shoots an arrow between their eyes. But mostly he feels that it’s better he take on that guilt. Better he take that responsibility.

Better he be the one to compromise himself than that the onus falls on those he loves.

* * *

_I was wondering, what do drakes think of other dragons like drachlings? Do any make 'friends' with them? Or are they all more or less indifferent?_

Drakes look at the other dragon breeds–aside from Sovereigns, who are the only others who are also sentient–much like we do great apes and monkeys. None of the wild dragons are as intelligent or able to speak to the drakes in words, but they can tell there’s a general relation.

As for the drachlings, it does depend somewhat on the individual. 

-Teren thinks they’re adorable, and he takes every opportunity to play with them, or have them snuggle up against him–as does Patton, for that matter. 

-Aisling finds them to be a bit silly, but ultimately harmless. She would be slightly jealous if Roman ever doted on one of his own–and ashamed to be so. 

-Kavi’s fairly indifferent, though she’d be quick to help Logan train his, if he ever obtained one.

-Caru claims to think they’re annoying, but Virgil’s found them curled up with ones from the Den more than once, so he’s not sure if they’re telling the truth there.

-Rhiannon’s very indulgent, and rather likes Thomas’s, Pongo. Pongo is purplish blue in color, but lacks the intricate, exotic markings of most noble’s drachlings. He’s also considerably smarter and can carry messages to people he knows well. Though these usually take the form of a note tied to his leg, Pongo can relay a simple series of emotions and pictures if necessary. It’s not a talent many know about, and is the result of Rhiannon training him in case of emergency.

* * *

_I absolutely love this au and how you are telling and developing it, and I was wondering how/when Thomas got Pongo and how Rhiannon trained Pongo? Was training Pongo to carry sort of messages like having Pongo go between Thomas and Patton with things? Do drachlings have the same sort of body type and pattern/general locations of where the scales are as Drakes? Sorry for all of the questions at once but I'm rather curious and excited_

Please don’t be sorry, I love getting to babble answers at you guys!!

Thomas has had Pongo for a little over eight years. He picked him out for his tenth birthday when Pongo was only a hatchling. As he matured, he proved to be very smart–he taught Thomas to play fetch with him, by tossing items into the air to chase, then bringing them to Thomas to encourage him to throw them. He also used to trick treats out of Patton by managing to convince Patton he hadn’t been fed any yet.

Because Pongo was also mischievous and given to stealing hats, shawls, and other small items and playing keep away with them, Thomas asked Rhiannon to step in and help him train him. She finds Pongo very amusing, and agreed.

Other drachlings also carry messages, though usually common ones on the borders, but as Pongo was much more intelligent than the usual noble’s drachling–and therefore bored with nothing to do–Rhiannon and Thomas worked together to teach him to do the same. Once Pongo had a job, he settled down.

Some.

But yes, much of the training was the equivalent of Patton and Thomas passing notes in class, and they still regularly do so. Pongo can find Patton more easily than anyone else, because he knows him better than anyone other than Thomas and Rhiannon. And Patton always has treats.

 

As for the appearance, the drachlings are  _basically_ miniature drakes. Think tigers and house cats. The markings may be different, but they’re undeniably related, and act in much the same ways. 

The details of their appearance are much more varied, however, as they’ve been bred for all sorts of various patterns and colors. Some drachlings have no scales, some are nearly completely covered in them, and every variation between. Some have long horns, or multiple horns, some have none. Some are solid colored, others have three or more colors at once.

Pongo looks basically like a miniature drake, and would be completely a common drachling–which all tend to resemble the drakes–except for his color, which is a rich blue shading into purple. His scales are a few shades lighter. And his expression is somewhat more smug than usual for the noble drachlings. If he was a parrot, he’d be the type to swear at the worst possible times and you’d  _know_  he was doing it on purpose.

* * *

 


	18. Official Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The official beginning to our storyline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part was written by Randomslasher.

The sounds of screaming and the acrid smell of smoke woke Logan mere moments before the frantic pounding began on his door.

He lurched, body jolting upright from where he’d apparently fallen asleep slumped over his desk, and stared at the door, for one shell-shocked moment too overwhelmed to react. Behind him, he heard a muffled curse and a thump, as Virgil flailed, sitting up in bed then promptly falling out as his legs tangled in his sheets. It would have been comical, in any other circumstance.

Now, however, their bedroom door was slamming open so hard it knocked into the opposite wall, and Logan whirled to find himself staring at an utterly frantic Patton, backlit by an ominous orange glow.

“Get up,” their healer grated, his voice almost unrecognizable. Terror had made it squeeze from his throat in a harsh grating tone that was nothing like his usual friendly timbre. As Logan and Virgil watched, he dashed into the room, racing to their closets and grabbing their packs. He threw one at Virgil and one at Logan. “Get up get up  _get up_. We have to leave.  _Now_.”

“What–what’s–?” Virgil didn’t get out any more than that before there was a sudden, terrible sound: the mournful, half-insane screech of a drake whose rider has just been struck down. Logan felt the blood draining from his face, his heart pounding, as Virgil’s eyes went wide and Patton clutched at his head in empathetic agony.

“What’s happening?” Logan cried. But then he realized that, under the terrified pounding of his own blood in his ears, Kavi was crying out in his mind.

( _Logan!_ ) her voice was filled with terror–but not for herself, he realized. For  _him_. ( _Logan! Logan!)_

“Someone’s killing them,” Patton sobbed. Behind the thick lenses of his glasses, his eyes were wide and red, and Logan knew it wasn’t just the smoke from the fires–tears were flowing down the kind-hearted man’s face. “The riders. Someone’s killing the riders. We have to–”

His words were drowned out by another terrible, bereft scream, and in his mind, Kavi was almost sobbing with terror. ( _Logan Logan please! Please Logan please please run run run please!)_

Logan shook his head sharply, though not before sending as much comfort and reassurance in her direction as he could, as the reality of the nightmare around them snapped into focus. He rose to his feet, unsteady, and grabbed his crutches, for once grateful he’d fallen asleep fully dressed and still wearing his braces.

“Patton,” he said. “Where’s Thomas?”

Patton whirled on him, lowering his hands from his ears. He was sobbing still, but made an admirable effort to pull himself together. His jaw firmed and he said, “He’s still in his quarters. Pongo woke me–I think Rhiannon sent him. I’m heading there now, but Teren–”

“We’ll get him,” Logan said immediately. “You go get Thomas. Virgil?”

“Packed,” Virgil reported, hurrying over with his bag, which he’d crammed with as many things as he could from their shared trunk. “It’ll have to be enough. I don’t think we have time to–”

Another scream, and Kavi was shrieking in his mind now, nearly out of her mind with terror. From the pained look on Virgil’s face, Logan knew he was getting the same thing from Caru, as was Patton from Teren.

“No, no, no, no,” Patton was sobbing again, staring wild-eyed toward the Dens. His body was trembling, and Logan realized suddenly that he was moments from abandoning his quest for Thomas in favor of barreling straight to his dragon.

“Listen to  _me_ ,” Logan shouted, stepping forward and planting himself in Patton’s space. Patton gasped, but his eyes did flicker back to Logan’s, focusing again. “You have to drown them out,” Logan commanded. “They’re safe. Okay? Whoever it is–they’re not killing the drakes. They  _wouldn’t_. Whoever they are, they have to know better. It’s not the dragons they’re after, it’s  _Thomas_.”

Patton sobbed again, but once more visibly drew himself together. Logan looked at Virgil, who was staring wide-eyed from Patton to Logan, waiting for orders.

“Where’s Roman?” Logan demanded.

“He’s heading for the drakes,” Patton reported. “He–he said he’d meet–”

“Good enough.” Logan cut him off with a wave. “You need to get going. Go get Thomas. Virgil–go with him.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Virgil said with a frown, but his next protest was cut off when two shrieks of mournful rage rose in the air at once, sending bolts of agony through their hearts and minds. Logan gritted his teeth and didn’t even wait for the cacophony to fade; instead, he began shoving bodily at the other two, urging them at the open door. He paused there only long enough to take the bag from Virgil’s hands and sling it awkwardly over his own shoulder, bracing himself against the doorframe in order to do so.

“ _Go_ ,” he snapped. “I’ll go find Roman and we’ll get the drakes. We’ll meet you in the woods behind the training dens. Okay?”

Patton hesitated for a moment. Logan growled and swatted at his calf with his crutch. “ _Go!_ ” he snarled.

Patton went. Virgil hesitated for a split second, looking into Logan’s eyes, his own agonized. “Be careful,” he said wetly, and grabbed Logan in a brief but sincere hug.

Then he was gone too, his tall, lean form disappearing quickly into the darkness and gathering smoke.

Logan sighed, leaning against the wall for a moment longer, then turned and headed toward the training caverns.

*

The journey was nothing short of torturous. His legs, cramped from sleeping in an awkward position, were rebelling with every step, and his back ached. He scowled, furious with himself, but more furious to know what Roman would say, if he were here. The insufferable  _I told you so_  look would be fixed on his face, a lecture about caring for his body as much as he cared for his mind would follow. Logan found himself feeling quite certain Roman could manage a lecture even while they were under attack.

He also–and this was something he would never admit to anyone other than himself–realized he would gladly listen to every word of it, if it meant Roman were here with him now.

His worry for their leader surprised him a great deal. But as he crept through the smoke-tinged training barracks, he realized he was almost as worried for Roman as he was for Thomas and Kavi. Not quite, but…it was a close thing. The prince might drive him crazy most of the time, but he meant well, and…

And shit. They  _needed_  him. If they were to have even half a chance at making it out of here in one piece, they were going to need someone who could take charge–who knew what the hell they were  _doing_.

He shook the thought off, and reached out to Kavi again as he paused to rest against the wall just north of the final stairwell–the one that would lead him down into the caverns where the dragons were. The screams of the other drakes had grown distant, and for that, he was thankful, though they still split the night with distressing regularity.

_(Kavi_ ,) he called to her in his mind. ( _Kavi! What’s going on?)_

( _Logan!)_ She responded immediately, and he felt a wave of love and fear and hope and terror wash through him all at once. It was a staggering mix, and he was glad he was braced against the wall when it hit him. ( _Logan! The bonds are shattering! Do you hear them? Do you hear them crying?_ )

_(I do,)_ Logan said, though he knew it was little compared to what Kavi could hear, as the bond that stretched between all the drakes would give her a first-hand taste of the pain he could only hear in the terrible shrieking cries of the adults. ( _Kavi. Patton and Virgil went to get Thomas. Roman was supposed to be coming to you and the others. Is he there?)_

_(No,)_ she replied, and Logan felt a renewed spike of terror mingled with something close to grief–if Roman wasn’t  _there_ , then that could only mean–

But Kavi cut him off with her next thought. ( _He was here. He saddled us. Then he left.)_

The grief and terror evaporated under an entirely new emotion: fury. ( _He LEFT you? Why on earth would he–)_

“Oy! You!”

Logan gasped, eyes flying open as he spun from where he’d been leaning and felt his heart drop to his feet.

There was a man standing at the opposite end of the long corridor he’d just made his way painstakingly down, and he was holding a torch in one hand and a sword in the other. Logan couldn’t make out much of his features in the layer of smoke that obscured the distance between them, but he  _did_  see it when the man’s sword-bearing arm dropped to his side and he broke into a charge, heading for Logan with a cry of rage.

Logan barely had time to think. Time seemed to slow, and his limbs responded to his commands in slow motion as he tried to turn to face the threat head-on.

He knew, even as he did so, that he would not be fast enough. His mind calculated the distance between the man and himself, the speed he was running, and his own response time, and the result was clear.

He was going to die.

On one last impulsive, desperate attempt at self preservation, he let his legs buckle beneath him, ducking his head and dropping his crutches to bring his arms up over his neck. Maybe, if he could get them up fast enough, if he could duck beneath the blow, if he could–

“Yeeaaa _aaaaaaargh!_ ” The raider cried, and he heard the singing sound of steel hurtling through the air above him.

_CLANG_!

Logan jerked, startled, and his eyes flew open as the sound of metal-on-metal reverberated in the air scant inches above his head. He dared to peek upward through the cage of his arms, and he caught the silhouette of two swords locked together for a split second, before a grunt sounded above him, and the raider was shoved backward with the screech of steel sliding against steel.

Logan stared at the figure above him, but the stranger wasted no time: before the raider even had time to regain his footing, the figure was charging forward, sword held before him in an attack pose he remembered Roman demonstrating for them just the previous afternoon, when he’d been running them through those interminable exercises–when Logan had wanted nothing more than to be back in his room with his books and journals, or back in the den with Kavi, reading to the curious drake about whatever he was currently studying (astronomy, this afternoon it had been astronomy) and Roman had exploded, had snapped at him, had warned him of this very scenario, and Logan had scoffed, he’d–

The raider lifted his sword to meet the charge, but he was slow–stupid, or perhaps over-confident (he  _had_ been charging an unarmed cadet on crutches, that was enough to make anyone feel fairly good about his chances) and his parry was too slow by far. It did catch the initial charge, but the raider had no time for a counter-attack; instead, Logan’s savior whirled gracefully, side-stepping the man in a spin that left him behind the raider, whose back was now wholly exposed. As Logan watched, the newcomer thrust his sword with surgical precision into the man’s back, angling the blade up just under his ribcage.

The raider grunted in surprise, lurched and staggered for a second, then collapsed, as his opponent withdrew his sword and spun it with a flourish. He was nothing more than a silhouette in the flickering orange glow of the fires that backlit him and the smoke that surrounded him, but Logan knew that silhouette well.

His savior spent no time celebrating his victory. Instead, he approached, the sound of his boots thumping on on the wooden planks of the hallway, and held out a hand to Logan.

“Come on,” Roman said softly. After a moment’s hesitation, Logan slipped his hand into Roman’s calloused one, and let himself be pulled to his feet. Roman stooped and grabbed Logan’s crutches, and Logan braced himself for the lecture he knew was coming.

Instead, however, Roman merely handed Logan his crutches, and gave him a grim smile. “Let’s go get our drakes,” he said.

*


	19. Official Chapter Two

Roman and Logan made their way carefully down the hallway, heading for the stairs which would lead them to the training caverns. Logan’s eyes stung and watered, the smoke from the fires below making his throat spasm around a need to cough. But he fought it back, not wanting to alert any other would-be assasins to their position. Roman had drawn his sword again after giving Logan his crutches, and he was moving forward with cautious urgency, blade held at the ready. When they reached the stairs, he peered down into the darkness with a frown, then turned to Logan, face grim. 

“The drakes are waiting for us in the cavern,” he said, voice pitched low. “Aisling is guarding the entrance to the stairwell from the den, so we should be clear, but I’m going to go first just in case. Hold onto my shoulder if you need help.” 

“I can manage,” Logan gritted through clenched teeth. It would do no good to snap at the one who had just saved his life, after all--no matter how humiliating that might have been. 

Roman stared at him for a second, eyes narrowed, then sighed and shook his head. “Fine,” he said. “Come on, then.” 

They stepped into the darkened stairwell, which stretched down into the darkness before them. Logan shifted his weight carefully, feeling forward with the crutches, thankful at least that he’d had plenty of practice navigating these stairs in the last year. (Nothing was going to keep him from seeing Kavi whenever he could, not even the loathed and often treacherous stairwell, though he frequently found himself longing for the ground-level hatchling caverns).

Still, even with all his practice, the trip down was slow going tonight. Whether it was the adrenaline from nearly being killed or the echoing sounds of the distantly screaming adult drakes, he found it difficult to focus on his descent, and more than once he would have fallen if Roman hadn’t been in front of him. 

After the second time stumbling into the prince’s back, Roman paused and turned his head in the darkness, a frown in his voice. 

“Are you injured?” he hissed.

“What?” Logan returned, startled. “No. I just--” 

“If you’re not injured then I need you to _pull yourself together_ ,” Roman didn’t wait for him to finish. “I can’t carry you _and_ carry my sword, so try to focus, okay?” 

Logan scowled, and gripped his crutches tighter. “Of course. _Sir_.” 

“Good.” The sarcasm was either lost on Roman or he was pointedly ignoring it, because he began to move down the stairwell again. Logan refocused his efforts, blocking out the distant screams, and instead focusing only on the familiar feel of the uneven stairs below his crutches. 

As they descended, the smoke grew thinner, but the screams grew louder, courtesy, no doubt, of the large open wall of the drakes’ cavern. The sounds from the battle below were now drifting up as well, and Logan swallowed, heart thrumming anxiously in his chest. Even if they escaped, what was _happening_ out there? The barracks and the riders’ dens were supposed to be impenetrable, high in the mountains, settled into the caldera of an extinct volcano and surrounded by sheer cliffs on all sides, only accessible by one road. And _that_ road was guarded at its base by an entire castle, under which lived a Sovereign dragon. For anyone to have gotten up here, they would have had to--

Logan’s heart dropped, and he closed his eyes briefly. For anyone to have infiltrated, they would have had to be someone the king trusted--someone everyone thought was supposed to be there. 

Which meant they had traitors in their midst. 

This wasn’t just an invasion by some foreign power--this was a _coup_. 

Logan shook his head, forcing the thought away. It was important, yes, but right now, the _more_ important thing was getting to Kavi and getting the hell _out_ of there. They’d regroup and figure out what to do next once they were all safe. 

He reached out with his mind, and Kavi responded immediately. There was relief in her voice, but it was tempered by fear and horror. 

_(Logan!)_ She said. ( _They’re killing the riders, they’re killing them, Logan!)_

_(I know.)_ He sent a wave of reassurance to the young drake he loved with all his being. ( _I know, Kavi, but don’t worry. I’m safe. Roman’s with me, and we’re almost to you.)_

Kavi didn’t reply in words but he felt the hope and relief across their bond, and smiled slightly. 

They reached the bottom of the stairs at last. Though he’d traveled up and down the hated things every day for the last year since the drakes had moved to the yearling cave, they’d never, ever felt so interminably long as they did that night. But after a short eternity, the floor beneath his crutches finally evened out, and the darkness gave way to the faint glow of the lit torches in the cavern beyond.

The light would have been better, he realized with sudden, desperate fondness, except that two bulky young drakes were crowding around the entrance, their snouts poking in through the doorway and their eyes glittering in the darkness. Aisling and Kavi. 

Logan smiled, and even Roman chuckled softly. “We’re all right, dear ones,” he said softly, sheathing his sword at last. “But you’ll have to move now so we can get by.”

Aisling snorted, and Kavi made a whining noise of reluctance, but the two drakes obediently shuffled backward, flooding the small space at the base of the stairwell with light. Beyond them, Logan saw Teren and Caru, the smaller drakes already fitted with their riding gear and shifting nervously but looking attentive and ready for action. He grinned in spite of everything. They were gonna get out. They were really going to make it out of there. 

What happened next happened so fast that Logan didn’t really register it at the time, though later, he would replay it in painstakingly slow detail, finding all the moments he might have stopped it. 

But he didn’t stop it. And he’d have time to think about that later, too. 

Roman was smiling as the drakes moved out of the small, human-sized doorway, and the light from the cavern beyond flooded into their little room, the small space between the base of the stairs and the doorway that opened to the cavern. Roman was smiling, as he turned, his face edged in the flickering glow from the light of the torches that lined the cavern’s wall. He was smiling--and then he wasn’t. Within the barest fraction of a second, his eyes went wide and alarmed, face drawing into a mask of shock and dismay. 

And then Logan’s world turned upside-down. 

A pair of hands--Roman’s hands--grabbed him by the arms, and yanked him forward, whirling them around so Roman’s back was to the stairwell they’d just descended. And then they were falling, Roman’s soft, pained grunt sounding very close to Logan’s ear as they stumbled and went sprawling in the cavern. 

Logan had squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the impact, and thankfully, he retained enough presence of mind to tuck his chin against his chest, so though his back and shoulders slammed painfully into the hard floor, his head did not. As soon as they had landed, though, he opened his eyes, drawing a breath to demand what the hell Roman thought he was _doing_ , lifting his hands to shove the prince aside. 

He did neither of those things, because the moment he saw Roman’s face, he understood. 

He barely even registered Aisling’s roar of rage, as she stretched her neck into the doorway they’d just fallen through, snapping her jaws in fury at the raider that had snuck down after them. His full attention was focused on Roman--on his face, hovering just a few inches above Logan’s own, shocked and confused. 

“Logan,” Roman uttered, and Logan didn’t like the wet sound of the prince’s voice. “I…” 

“Roman?” Logan breathed, eyes widening. Almost without conscious direction, his hands, which had gripped the prince’s shoulders as they fell, began to trail down his back, his side--and when his right hand encountered a large, growing patch of wet warmth, he had to choke back a cry of alarm. 

Roman’s eyes rolled up and fluttered closed, his head dropping to Logan’s chest, and as Logan watched in horror, the prince slowly collapsed. 

_No. No, no, no!_

Logan bit back the urge to scream. Distantly, he heard a man yelling, and felt a blast of heat--Aisling, using her fire, lighting the stairwell and roasting whomever was inside--but he was focused on Roman, and Roman alone. 

_Oh please, Roman, no._

He reached up with one badly shaking hand, and laid his fingers along the side of the prince’s throat, holding his breath. _Please, please,_ please _._

For a moment, he felt nothing. 

But then, blessedly, it was there against his fingers, sluggish but strong: Roman’s pulse. He was alive. He was _alive_. 

_Oh thank the gods_. Logan closed his eyes briefly, his hand flying up to cup Roman’s head for a moment, the other clutching the prince’s shoulder. Not dead. _Not dead._

But close on the heels of that relieved thought was another, small and insidious: 

_Yet._

That spurred him into action. He had to get Roman out of here--had to get him help ,and fast. The prince was losing blood, and he wasn’t going to make it if Logan didn’t do something. 

That was hindered somewhat, however, by the fact that Roman currently had him hopelessly pinned. 

_(Kavi!)_ He called in his mind. ( _Kavi, help me! I need to move him.)_

His drake appeared in seconds, hovering over him, her eyes wide and fearful. ( _Logan_ ,) she greeted, bending to briefly nuzzle his hair, then turning her attention to the wounded prince. She moved forward, nosing his shoulder, then reaching out with her paw, curling it over Roman’s prone body. 

“Carefully,” Logan warned her, proud when his voice only cracked once. “He’s hurt.” 

She snorted in understanding. Together, the two of them gently eased Roman to the side, and Logan squirmed out from beneath the limp figure. He pushed himself up and rolled over immediately, leaning over Roman to assess the extent of his injury--then bit back a cry, alarm and fury and grief clogging his throat. 

The shaft of an arrow protruded from Roman’s left side, and around it, the prince’s doublet and shirt were dark and sticky with blood. Logan couldn’t tell how deeply the arrow had penetrated, though the tiny part of his mind that remained rational noted there was a fair amount of shaft visible--the thick leather of the riding doublet had stopped the worst of it. 

Still, the wound was bad. Even Logan could see that. And Aisling had finished dispatching the archer responsible for it and was now lumbering over, shrieking in rage and grief at the sight of her rider brought down like this. Kavi was mewling pitifully, looking at her clanmate and her rider and responding to the fear she sensed from both of them. Teren and Caru were approaching as well, their eyes wide and terrified and confused as they looked from Logan to Roman to Aisling, who was beginning to wail, and Kavi, who was whimpering in fear. 

Logan realized that he was moments from losing Aisling to panic--she would be wild with grief and completely out of reach of anyone, even her own clanmates.

He couldn’t let that happen. If they had any hope of saving Roman, he needed Aisling’s help. 

He drew himself up and squared his shoulders, and deep inside him, something molten resolved itself into steel. 

“ _Aisling_ ,” he roared, and his voice was full of so much command that even he didn’t recognize it for a moment. But it worked: the near-frantic drake paused in her heaving cries and looked at him blearily, eyes half-wild. 

“He’s not dead,” he said--unnecessarily, of course, because Aisling would be the first to know if he was, but hearing out loud helped calm him, too. “But he needs our help. You have to calm down. I need you. _Roman_ needs you. Okay?” 

Aisling blinked at him once, and for a long moment, he was worried he wouldn’t be able to get through to her. The cavern was frozen, unnaturally still, as the other three drakes stared at their largest sister, eyes wide and bodies trembling. 

Then Aisling wilted a little. She snorted, and dipped her head in acknowledgment of Logan. Though bonded with Roman, she would, it seemed, obey orders from the other rider--at least when Roman’s life was on the line. 

Good enough. 

“Kavi,” Logan said. “I need you to help me. We have to get Roman onto Aisling’s back.” 

Kavi chirped, and he felt her in his mind, too terrified to form words, but willing to listen to him, and to do what she needed to do. 

Together, they eased Roman onto his right side, careful of the arrow shaft that protruded from the wound. Logan frowned at it, but knew better than to pull it out; with nothing to stem the flow of blood, and with the barbed arrowhead likely to do even more damage on its way out, Roman would bleed out in moments. Instead, he held the arrow tight at the base, closing his eyes when Roman moaned in pain, and Kavi took the shaft in her teeth and snapped it off as low as she could.

Then the pair of them eased Roman into a sitting position. Aisling brought her chest to the cavern floor, bringing her back as low to the ground as possible, but it took Kavi and Logan considerable effort to hoist the unconscious Roman onto his drake’s back. 

Still, they managed, and Logan secured Roman in place carefully, strapping him in and buckling his harness. Once he was certain Roman was secure, he turned to Kavi, bracing himself against Aisling’s leg (he had dropped his crutches, and he couldn’t spare the time to fetch them).

“Listen,” he said softly to his drake, and she inched forward and placed her head in his outstretched hands. He stroked her muzzle gently and she whimpered up at him, frightened and trembling but alert. 

“I have to ride Aisling,” he told her. “Roman can’t support himself. I have to make sure he’s safe. I need you to fly above and keep a lookout for us while we go get Patton and Virgil. Can you do that for me, sweetling?” 

Kavi chirped and bumped her snout against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her large head and hugged her for just a moment. 

Then he drew away. Roman needed help, and he needed it fast. There was no time to waste. 

“Okay, Kavi,” he said softly. “Help me up?” 

With his drake’s help, Logan managed to swing himself up onto Aisling’s broad back, and buckled himself in with the secondary harness. Then he drew Roman’s limp body, which had been draped forward over Aisling’s neck, back against his own chest, holding him close so he wouldn’t be jostled too much in flight. Roman’s head lolled back against his shoulder, his eyes closed and his face pale, and Logan swallowed hard, tightening his grip around the prince’s waist. 

_Hold on, Roman,_ he thought, half plea and half prayer. _Please hold on. We need you._

“Okay,” he breathed, trying to ignore the terrified pounding of his heart. He looked at Kavi, then over at Caru and Teren, who had been watching them with fear in their eyes but who had thankfully known to stay out of the way. “Caru. Teren. Take us to the others.” 

The two smaller drakes chirped at him, and bounded to the large open mouth of the cave, bracing themselves at its edge for a moment before springing into the air. Kavi followed, and Aisling lumbered behind her, her gait lolling and terrifying. Logan prayed he would be able to stay on her back, harness or no. 

At the edge of the cliff, they paused, and Logan felt his heart catch in his throat.

The caldera was ablaze. Below them, he could see the entire compound, from the barracks by the lake to the training grounds, and it was all a complete riot of smoke and fire and shouting. Even from their height, he could hear the clash of swords and the cries of the wounded and the dying.

But worst of all was the shriek of the adult drakes whose riders had been murdered--the drakes whose bonds had been shattered, and whose grief was now spreading through the entire flight. Those drakes had thrown themselves into the air and were soaring high above the chaos, screaming their rage and sorrow into the moonless night. 

They were in frenzy, Logan knew, and his heart filled with sorrow. They were in frenzy, and they would listen to no one, hear no reason. They would fly until they had exhausted themselves, then half glide, half crash to the ground, where they would lie, unmoving, for days, consumed by the pain of a shattered bond. They would survive--most of them--but they could not help Logan or the others now. 

Logan closed his eyes and forced his thoughts away from the adult drakes. Right now, he had his own wing to attend to and a fallen shield brother to save. And, if he was right about the coup, Prince Thomas desperately needed their help. The fate of the kingdom could well rest on what Logan did next. He could not afford to hesitate. 

He nodded to Kavi, sending a word of command through their bond, and she flung herself from the edge of the cliff, wings unfurling, following Teren and Caru into the night. And at his gentle urging, Aisling braced herself, then sprang into the air after her, her powerful wings beating at the smoke and sending them soaring above the smoldering caldera. 

* 


	20. Official Chapter Three

It had been difficult, letting Logan leave on his own, but Virgil had forced himself not to watch his best friend as he’d limped away down the hall toward the stairs. Instead, he gritted his teeth and turned away, hurrying after Patton as another long, agonized shriek sounded high above them. Lord and Lady, what was  _happening_  out there?

He forced his mind away from it, concentrating on Patton’s back in front of him, on the sound of their feet on the stone steps, the acrid scent of smoke drifting on the air. Patton needed him, Thomas needed him,  _Caru_  needed him. He couldn’t let himself get lost in fear.

They reached the bottom of the tower and Patton turned automatically to the main hallway. Thomas’s quarters here in the Dragon’s Den were still a cadet’s quarters, as Rhiannon had not yet reached her full growth, but were larger and better appointed than any of the others, as befitted a crown prince. They also usually would’ve been  _empty_ , but autumn brought the harvest and the tithes. A minor functionary could’ve overseen and accepted the deliveries, but Thomas had always insisted on performing the duty himself.

Which meant he was caught here, in the middle of this. Virgil bit his lip, tugging Patton back into the shadow. “Not that way,” he breathed, softly. “Servant’s corridor, here.” He jerked his head and Patton nodded, tears glistening on his cheeks in the flickering light.

Virgil ducked through the half-hidden door into the narrow hallway that allowed servants to pass through the cadet quarters more easily. He’d used the ones in the castle often enough, before he’d become a rider, and he was relieved to find these ones deserted.

It didn’t take long for them to reach Thomas’s rooms, and to Virgil’s relief they met no one on the way. He peeked out from the small spyhole in the door to be sure the coast was clear. The mournful cries from the drakes had continued outside, but here inside everything remained quiet. Were the cadets being spared?

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and slipped out into the hall. Patton hurried after him, knocking on Thomas’s door. “ _Thomas!_ ” he hissed. “Thomas, please!”

Virgil heard the door unlatch and Patton pushed it open enough for the two of them to slide inside. Virgil blinked to see Pongo flitting back and forth in front of them and no sign of Thomas. “Patton…?”

“He’s awake, but not? I think that’s what Pongo’s showing me…” Patton said uncertainly. Virgil frowned. He knew Pongo passed messages between Thomas and Patton, but he hadn’t realized Patton could  _understand_  the drachling. “In his bedroom…”

Virgil didn’t wait to hear more, but hurried through the outer room and to Thomas’s bed chamber. The door was unlocked, and he pushed it open, planning to ask forgiveness for barging in, rather than permission. They didn’t have time for social niceties, and Thomas would understand…

He stopped short, skin crawling in horror as he took in the sight in front of him.

Thomas was sitting straight up in bed, expressionless, his eyes wide and completely empty, with no hint of reason or awareness visible in them. Virgil would’ve thought he was asleep sitting up, if not for those horribly staring eyes. “Y-Your highness?”

“Thomas, Thomas we have to…” Patton skidded to a halt beside him, gasping softly. “Oh no…”

Thomas didn’t move, didn’t look at them, didn’t flinch, still seemingly frozen in place. Virgil shivered. “Patton, what’s…?”

Patton took a deep breath, moving forward and gently laying a hand on Thomas’s arm. The crown prince didn’t react to the touch, either. “It’s Rhiannon,” Patton said, his voice strained. “Pongo’s nearly incoherent, he’s so upset, but I think…I think he’s saying she’s been drugged. Lo…” He bit off a sob, “Logan was right. We  _have_ to get Thomas out of here.”

Virgil nodded, not trusting his own voice, and turned away to search for a bag. Thomas would need clothes, would need his things. It was getting cold out, he’d need to dress warmly…

Virgil found a leather saddlebag in Thomas’s closet and began for the third time that night to pack. He grabbed clothes, weapons, anything he saw that Thomas might need, might find useful when he came back to himself.

Behind him he could hear Patton coaxing Thomas like a small child, his voice soft and gentle, but on the thin edge of breaking. Virgil glanced over to see Thomas obediently following Patton’s instructions, letting his limbs be moved, letting himself be tugged out of bed, his nightshirt be pulled off. But all the while his eyes stared straight ahead, unfocused, unseeing, utterly unlike his usual smiling good humor and sharp wit.

Virgil turned away and back to Thomas’s open closet with a shudder.

By the time he’d finished packing, Patton had Thomas dressed in riding leathers, though the prince still seemed to be moving in a dream. Virgil threw Thomas’s pack over his own shoulder, above his own.

How were they going to escape like  _this_?

***

Somehow, though, they managed it.

Several times during their harrowing journey from Thomas’s chambers to the forest at the edge of the caldera, Virgil was certain they wouldn’t. Thomas was barely conscious, moving under direct urging but with no particular care or caution, and more than once, Patton or Virgil had had to grab him to keep him from wandering straight into the path of the patrolling troops of invaders.

Still, luck or fate or something was on their side, providing them with patches of cover enough to slink by unnoticed. And soon, the compound’s buildings gave way to trees. Moving through the woods in the dark was no easy task, but Virgil would take stumbling over hidden roots any day after the tense moments spent hiding from the light of the attacker’s torches.

The clearing was close, the glow of moonlight visible through the trees, when Caru’s presence broke through Virgil’s thoughts.  _(Virgil! Aisling’s rider’s been hurt! Virgil, Virgil, are you okay?!)_

Virgil gasped, hearing Patton’s sharp intake of breath at the same time.  _(I’m fine,)_  he assured his drake, swallowing hard. Gods, Roman…what could’ve happened? All he could see from Caru was Aisling screaming in terror and anger, an impression of flames and fear too colored by emotion view clearly.  _(We’re nearly to the clearing, can…can you make it?)_

_(Kavi’s rider is helping, Aisling is calming. We will come to you. Riders are_ dying _Virgil; be safe.)_

Virgil sent a wave of reassurance, biting his lip hard. “Pat? Caru says…”

“I know,” Patton said, his voice thick. “Teren showed me. We’ll have to…I have my things, but…”

Virgil drew a deep breath, then another, pushing his fears away. Later. Later he could shiver and shake and panic. Not now, when it would serve no purpose. “He’ll be fine,” he said harshly. “They’re on their way, we’ll help him, and we’ll get out of here. We have to keep moving.”

Patton bit down another sob, but nodded and started forward again.

By the time they reached the clearing, Caru and Teren had already landed. Virgil abandoned some of his hard-won control, running to his drake and throwing his arms around Caru’s neck, pressing tightly against them. “Thank the Gods,” he whispered.

_(You are okay, you are okay, you are okay!!)_  Caru repeated the thought over and over, their whole body squirming to get closer to him, to reassure themself their rider hadn’t been hurt. Caru’s joy at finding Virgil whole was so strong his knees nearly buckled, and he clung tightly to them for a long moment

He only pulled away at the sound of dragon wings, and looked up to see Kavi and Aisling coming in for a landing. Kavi was riderless and for a moment Virgil’s heart leapt to his throat, strangling him with terror.  _Logan, Gods,_ Logan _, no…_

But then Aisling landed, and relief flooded through him. There was Logan, supporting Roman carefully against his chest. “Patton!” Logan called as Aisling settled, his voice roughened by smoke. “Patton, I need you, he’s been shot!”

Virgil’s blood turned to ice at Logan’s words. He pushed himself away from Caru with a soft reassurance, and crossed to Patton. “I’ll watch Thomas,” he said, voice shaking as he laid a gentle hand on the crown prince’s arm. “Go ahead.”

Patton gave him a tight smile, before grabbing up his small healer’s bag and hurrying to Aisling’s side where she’d pressed her chest and belly to the earth so he could reach Roman. The moonlight leeched all color from the night, but Virgil could see the dreadful black stain marring Roman’s white doublet and knew it was as red as Aisling’s hide.

“We have to hurry,” Logan said tersely, glancing back toward the compound. An orange glow was spreading, lighting up the sky and shining through the trees. “Pat, can you help him?”

“Not like this–we have to remove the arrowhead, it’s…” Patton’s voice broke, and Virgil’s heart dipped again, “…it’s stuck in his rib. I need to get him lying flat, I’ll have to…to feel for it. I need a fire, and water, and light and  _time…_ ”

“And that is something we don’t have,” Logan interrupted grimly. “Kavi saw some of the raiders heading this way as we landed.” He swore under his breath and Virgil saw his jaw clenching. “Will he survive long enough to get to the training caves? That’s as good a place as any to hide out for now.”

“I…I think so,” Patton hesitated, looking over to Teren. The drake slid up to his largest sister, reaching out to lightly touch Roman with the tip of his muzzle. Even from where he stood, Virgil could see Roman’s body abruptly relax, the lines of tension and pain on his face smoothing away.

Logan let out a sharp noise of protest and Virgil saw his hands shoot out to grip Roman’s waist, steadying him where he slumped over Aisling’s neck. “Patton,” Logan objected, “what did you…?”

Patton smiled wanly, pushing himself back to his feet. “It’s all right, Lo. Teren’s sent him into a deep sleep. He won’t move and hurt himself any worse, even if he starts to wake, and it’ll slow the bleeding some. But we have to  _hurry_.”

Logan nodded, his face still pale, but apparently satisfied. “Then we will. His Highness can ride Kavi, and…”

“He can’t,” Virgil interrupted, swallowing hard. Thomas still showed no sign he understood or heard them, his face still slack and eyes still empty as he stared off into the blackness of the forest. The thought of him managing to mount a drake was ludicrous, riding one impossible. “He’s not…he can’t.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. “Fair enough. You can explain why to me later. In the meantime…”

“Teren can carry both of us,” Patton offered shakily. “It’s not far, and Thomas…Thomas trusts me.”

“Fine,” Logan agreed, already busying himself with arranging Roman against him. “Get mounted, we don’t have a moment to lose.”

As if in answer to his words, Virgil saw the bobbing of torches through the trees, heading their way. He spared only enough time to help Patton bundle Thomas onto Teren’s back, before running over and swinging himself up onto Caru’s.

_(Ready, love?)_  he asked, as his fingers flew over the familiar buckles of their harness.

_(Ready! We have to run, to keep you_ safe _!)_

The moment Virgil secured the last strap to his belt, Caru leapt upward, their wings snapping out as they took off. They’d never attempted a ground launch before and Virgil held his breath, heart beating hard as the drake’s wings as they fought to gain altitude.

But whether it was the sheer adrenaline or Caru’s utter determination to get Virgil to safety, after a few rough moments they did begin to climb into the air. Virgil found himself beginning, beyond all reason, to believe they all might really manage to escape.

Caru’s feet had barely cleared the tree line when the bobbing torches swarmed into the open clearing, shouts of anger and frustration echoing up to Virgil even over the sound of the wind. He pressed low against Caru’s neck, willing them to climb higher.

And climb they did, up above the trees, above the caldera, circling higher and higher as the ruin of Virgil’s home spread out beneath them. He turned his head away from the sight of the flames devouring the buildings–and caught sight of the glint of moonlight on metal.

_(Caru, archers!)_

Caru, small, dark and agile, was able to avoid the barrage of arrows streaking up from the clearing. Aisling, with her powerful muscles, and Kavi, with her giant wings and unburdened by a rider, had both already flown up and out of range.

But Teren–not so agile as Caru, bright white and light blue against the night sky, and carrying double when he was hardly large enough for one–Teren was not so lucky.

Virgil heard the pained scream tear from the drake’s throat and saw his steady ascent begin to stall. Visions flashed through Virgil’s mind of Teren losing control, careening down to the ground below, of Patton and Thomas–Gods,  _Thomas_ –dashed against the rocks or drowning in the lake, of losing  _all_ of them…

_(Virgil!)_  Caru’s mind broke in on his own, slicing through the spiral of panic.  _(Virgil! Logan says be calm.)_

Virgil drew a startled breath, the whirling thoughts quieting some.  _(But…but…)_

_(It will be okay. We must stay with Teren. We will help them all!)_

Virgil took another deep breath, squaring his shoulders and nodding hard. He looked up to see Kavi and Aisling flying north, away from them. But his momentary shock of surprised betrayal was assuaged by a rush of images and impressions from Caru. Logan would take Roman to the training cave, do what he could there–the prince didn’t have time for anything else.

And Virgil…Virgil would follow Teren and protect the others as best he could. If they could only get over the rim of the caldera, they could descend into the mountainous forest beyond and make their way from there. Gods willing, they would all meet again soon.

With a last look at the departing drakes, Virgil sent his acknowledgement of Logan’s orders through Caru and directed them back to Teren’s side.

Somehow, Patton’s drake had continued to rise up into the air, though the injured wing was shaking, faltering. But still they went up, up…and crested the final ridge, slipping over the high cliff. As it passed beneath them, Teren’s climb turned into a barely controlled fall, plunging down from the sheer rock face into the wilderness beyond.

A wilderness of dense forest, rocky crags and mountainous peaks unassailable from the ground. A wilderness of  _safety_.

They’d made it. They’d all escaped alive.

But whether they’d remain that way was far from certain.


End file.
